


What We Lost and What We Have

by StaplerQueen (Bananaise_San)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (many more characters to be added), Alternate Universe, Angst, Autoshop Owner Dean, Castiel is his uncle but on Kelly's side, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Family Drama, Fluff, Gen, Hospitalization, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jack is Sam and Dean's half brother, Jack's 16/17 in this, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Major Illness, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Seizures, Whump, everyone is human AU, teacher cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2020-06-03 00:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananaise_San/pseuds/StaplerQueen
Summary: May 18, 2000, the night Sam and Dean learned 3 things.John had cheated on Mary.Kelly Kline was dead.And their younger half brother Jack was born…Nearly 17 years later their family never really recovered. But after a panicked phone call from Jack's uncle Castiel, their family will never be the same.AU somewhat inspired by Episode 2x20 - What Is and What Should Never Be, and the season 14 storyline concerning Jack's illness.





	1. Exes, siblings, and drunken mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam really should have asked Brady to stash his phone before they got to the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to repost this because drafts messed stuff up

**May 18, 2000**

Sam had just turned 16 two weeks earlier. 

Up until that day, the worst thing that happened to him was being dumped at his sophomore winter formal and having his CD player stolen out of his locker by Bela, the opportunistic klepto of a foreign exchange student from Pre-Cal the same night.

They were celebrating Dean moving into his first solo apartment the night they got the call.

Sam had gone upstairs to get a head start on his summer reading list but he could hear the rest of his family laughing and talking over a game through his cracked bedroom door.

He'd barely even noticed the phone ring and his mother getting up to answer it, only taking note after he heard the volume on the television being lowered dramatically.

"What'd you say Mary?" his dad asked, the smile still in his voice.

"I said, do you know a Castiel?" Mary repeated.

"Castiel? I don't think so, maybe someone from the shop, Dean?"

Dean must have shaken his head because Sam never heard a response.

"Well whoever he is he sounds really upset," Mary sounded concerned.

He couldn't make out what his mother asked the man on the phone but then…

"Castiel Kline?"

There was a deathly silence, curiosity got the better of Sam, he closed his book and went down the stairs. John had gone white as a sheet.

"He says you knew his sister…" Mary turned to look at John, eyebrows raised, "and he really needs to speak to you."

John had nearly snatched the phone from Mary in his haste apologizing hurriedly.

Sam had stayed hidden by the stairs his entire family looking on as John walked quickly to the kitchen.

Dean looked confused, Mary looked shell shocked. Neither moved.

But Sam did, he tiptoed quietly to the kitchen door staying just outside it eavesdropping on one side of John's phone conversation."

"What do you mean she…? Calm down, I can't understand what you’re saying, slow down. What happened?"

John was pacing the room, running a hand through his hair, panic in his tone and posture bent like everything teetered on what the voice on the other end of the line said.

"How can you be sure it's… they're… Kid, I didn't even know she was... I met her once... she never told me!"

Sam heard footsteps and jumped, his mom had finally unfrozen and moved towards the kitchen. She was shaking slightly, her mouth set tightly, eyes watering, Sam stepped guiltily out of her way.

"John… what's going on?"

The screaming started less than a minute later. Dean eventually pulling him away back toward the living room.

That night Sam learned 3 things.

1\. John had cheated on Mary.

2\. Kelly Kline was dead.

3\. And his younger half brother had been born…

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

**April 21, 2007**

Another night he'd never forget.

Dean said John had gotten in a car accident when he called him at Stanford, a stupid little fender bender. 

The other driver had come around to John’s driver side window pissed off ready to give John a piece of his mind only to find him slumped over, pronounced dead by paramedics on the scene five minutes later, an apparent heart attack behind the wheel.

"I know you don't give a shit about him anymore, but at least come to his fucking funeral."

The years had not been kind to the brother's relationship, but even Sam thought that was uncalled for. He wasn't going to leave Dean alone to deal with the aftermath.

He'd been in the middle of preparing for finals but he’d still come.

_Dean hadn’t been big on lawyers ever since the bozo divorce lawyer who’d drawn up John and Mary’s papers cheated them out of 6k._

He'd missed John’s service but not the burial. Listening to some preacher go on about what a great guy his dad was would only have brought up inappropriate angry thoughts. He knew Dean would be mad he didn’t show up, but he would have been angrier if he’d laughed.

So he'd sat in his car until everyone started to leave. One or two great aunts and uncles he’d never met, guys who worked at the auto shop, sundry friends and neighbors. Mary had spotted him and came over knocking softly on the window and giving her son a long silent hug before leaving.

When he finally got out there were only three people left.

Jack was six-years-old and tow-head blonde then, - _like he’d seen Dean in pictures at that age_ \- hiding on the far side of Castiel, watching them nervously as he was led away from the graveside hand in hand with his uncle. 

It had been a weekday so the boy had thankfully been with Castiel at the time of John's death. 

His brother was standing at the graveside when Sam approached him, hands stuffed in his pockets swaying side to side. Staring down like he was getting ready to fill in the hole himself if the gravediggers didn’t get there soon.

_Because it was something he could do with his hands and emotions, taking out his grief on the dirt._

It made Sam a little wary to approach him but Dean barely looked up and over when Sam came up beside him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

They’d stood there in silence Sam mentally stumbling over a thousand things to say in his head. 

_"Well, dad’s... dead.”_

He imagined Dean was probably silently seething.

_“Maybe I should have asked dad to die at a better time so it fit into your busy schedule.”_

Emotions neither one was ready to confront kept them from moving.

“Same time next year?” 

Dean had said it sarcastically, and looking back Sam wished they’d had a better story but that was how their little tradition began.

Outside of major holidays or birthdays, it was one of the few times they made an active effort to see each other. Sometimes catching up, other times just visiting the site in near silence.

Rain or shine, just the two of them.

Until today.

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

**April 21st, 2017**

“It’s almost fucking summer,” Dean muttered, his breath puffing in the early evening air. He rubbed his hands together before handing Sam an even colder beer. Sam huffed and took it, making no comment about how that would do next to nothing to help, or about how it was a trashy brand he hadn’t seen since pre-law.

“If it makes you feel better the weather channel says it’s the coldest spring in over a decade..” Sam sipped his beer and grimaced, the taste reminded him why he’d never been much of party-er in college.

But as Dean once put it “our family were salt of the earth people,” and he wore that fact like an aesthetic badge, no different than hipsters and the wannabe actors in Cali drinking cheap fake kombucha. Sam grinned a little at the thought.

Dean poured out 79¢ worth of beer for John before cracking open another bottle to drink himself.

“Happy ten years dad,” Dean smiled humorlessly. “Still managed not to burn your shop to the ground…”

He’d already been waiting when Sam got there, standing and looking down in the exact same way he did ten years previously. Rocking back and forth, processing, contemplating. Sam searched Dean’s back for something to say.

A navy canvas covered back.

“You got a new jacket…”

“Huh?” Dean sipped his beer like he hadn’t heard him.

“I’ve always seen you wear Dad’s leather one,” Sam insisted.

It took a ridiculously long time for him to respond, like Dean had settled on an unspoken rule that he had to wait until Sam's breath completely dissipated into the cool morning air before he could reply.

“Yeah well, maybe it’s too cold for that today, like you said ‘coldest spring of the decade,’ ever think of that Sammy?”

“I've seen you wear dad's jacket in the dead of winter, this is just a cool front, it’ll be in the seventies by tomorrow,” Sam said flatly.

Dean fell silent again for a long moment.

“It’s been ten years… it got old, I got a new one, do you need me to psychoanalyze your henley now?”

Sam rolled his eyes in defeat letting the subject drop with another swing of dishwater beer.

If Sam remembered one thing about growing up with his brother it was that his brother was a creature of habit. Dean had never been big on school but he’d insisted on using the same backpack all throughout middle and high school, and one look at the parking lot told Sam he still drove dad’s old Impala, he’d repaired both items multiple times. Dean didn’t get rid of things because “it got old.”

“ _It’s been ten years…_ ”

Maybe it was time for a change.

Sam swallowed in the charged silence, “ _change..._ ” he’d been putting off talking to Dean about that. 

He’d done something on impulse. He’d been roped into going out for drinks with his fellow junior partners in the firm after finishing a case.

Sorting out some accounting error that got at least three people fired.

He hated those cases, making sure that companies weren’t liable for random bullshit that meant nothing in the long run. They’d had three like that in the same month. So... after a few drinks… he’d gotten sentimental, started thinking about his life choices, thinking about all the things he hadn’t done yet, the things he regretted. 

_Sam really should have asked Brady to stash his phone before they got to the bar._

But the secret he’d been keeping reared it’s deceivingly unassuming head before he had a chance to open his mouth..

The silence was broken by a distant but harsh sounding cough.

Dean glanced over his shoulder posture immediately stiffening, eyebrows raising, “What the hell…”

Sam at least had the good grace to look guilty.

Castiel looked about the same as Sam remembered him save for a few new lines on his face. The same constant vaguely worried look was made more prominent by whatever he was talking to Jack about.

Jack, on the other hand, had changed a lot. He’d been maybe eleven the last time Sam had seen him. Since then his hair had considerably darkened with age from blond to sandy brown and he’d shot up half a foot. There wasn’t much of John visible in Jack’s face and if his resemblance to his uncle was anything to go by the Kline genetics were strong in him.

The boy looked a little washed out, blowing his nose in a tissue as they approached, a small bouquet of yellow flowers in his free hand, looking up from his conversation with his uncle to give Sam a nervous smile. Sam looked quickly away.

“I was uh… meaning to talk to you about... this…” Sam looked sheepish a Dean's befuddled face.

“Oh you were going to talk to me,” Dean scoffed, “Sam what are Jack and and and… saint Castiel doing here!?”

“I invited them?” Sam scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Dean looked lost for words mouthing silently for a moment, "Okay Sam so explain this to me..." 

Sam huffed now he distinctly didn't want to answer, "Dean could you just…"

"No no no please tell me," Dean seemed to puff up with indignation and betrayal, "what exactly possessed you to think that was in any possible way a good idea? because it's beyond me!"

_“Six beers that did not taste like piss_ ,” Sam didn’t say.

"Is there a problem here?" Castiel and Jack had finally reached the grave. He kept himself a little in front of the teenager, protective. It was painfully familiar, even the look of anxious confusion on Jack's face.

"No, not all," Dean snorted, "I just thought… some things were sacred."

"He's dad's kid too, he has as much right to be here as we do!" Sam raised his voice done with his brother's verbal assault.

Said kid coughed awkwardly.

Dean didn't even glance his way, "yeah sure, any other day he can have a goddamn picnic here if he wants, but not today, he's never come TO-day…"

"I’m right here you know," Jack piped up annoyed.

"Dean, you're acting like a child," Sam was beginning to get pissed off. Dean was embarrassing him in front of people with one of his stupid hissy fits.

"Yeah well, maybe I am," Dean reached down to pick up what was left of the six pack, the remaining bottles rattling ominously.

"You see I thought… I thought maybe this meant something to you, that I still somehow knew you," Dean shrugged, "but you're right Sam, we're not kids anymore…"

And with that Dean left, returning the wary look he got from Castiel with a sarcastic smile.

Sam just sighed not following, instead turning his attention to Castiel and Jack.

Any of the anxious hope Jack’s face had held when they first walked up had gone, replaced with an unreadable expression.

Castiel looked shaken.

"I'm really sorry about him, he's just…" Sam trailed off he didn't have an honest excuse.

"No it's fine," Castiel sighed looking harassed, feathers ruffled, so to speak, by Dean's tirade.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," he gave Jack a significant look that rubbed Sam the wrong way. He felt like he had to defend his brother.

"He's not usually like that it's just…" Sam trailed off feeling lost. He didn't even know why he was doing this, he'd invited them on a stupid drunken whim, and he barely spoke to Dean anymore. He was basically defending two strangers from one another. He didn’t feel like explaining his brother’s temper tantrum. He should have stayed in California at least there the people he knew made sense.

“I’m sorry you drove all this way from…” Sam pulled up a blank.

“Indiana, Midway, Indiana,” Cas huffed, crossing his arms and looking colder than it was possible to actually be wearing at least three layers.

“Right,” Sam awkwardly swung his arms at his side, examining the freshly pruned grass for weeds.

He had cases he needed to get back to, they were barely two month’s out from a major merger and the firm had yet to finish writing up the paperwork. He spared a glance toward Jack.

Jack seemed to shrink into himself still half hidden behind his uncle’s coat, coughing quietly into his sleeve.

“You okay?” Sam tried.

“Hotel AC…” the kid muttered not looking him in the eye. “We um… we got in late last night, been hanging around there all day.” His free hand was tucked into his patterned jacket pocket, the other hand holding the flowers tensed into a shaking fist, crinkling the plastic, biting his lip, like he was trying not to cry.

Sam felt bad for him, wanted to say something reassuring, but he knew if he looked over an inch he’d see Castiel, glaring at him like he’d just stabbed the kid.

  
  
“I um… I’m supposed to meet Mary at six…” Sam said lamely.

He heard no objections, "good to see you again," he muttered before walking away.

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

Dean stared down into his glass and swirled the amber middle shelf whiskey; he’d tossed his half case of cheap beer in the fridge before going out in search of something stronger.

He didn’t want to be alone and sober in that house… not tonight.

He took a long swallow from the glass then knocked it back against the bar counter, “fuck you Sam.”

“You got a ride home tonight Dean-o?” a familiar voice prodded sounding amused.

Dean gave the bar owner a thin smile, "You offering Gabe?"

Gabe chuckled topping off his glass, “just asking, I’d hate to have to sick the big guy on you for your keys…”

Dean glanced over his shoulder spotting the glum musclebound bartender. He was scrubbing at a table in harsh rapid spirals, treating sticky beer and peanut bits with all the intensity of someone cleaning up blood from a murder they committed.

“Where’d you find that anyway,” Dean snorted taking another mouthful of whiskey, “haven’t seen him around before.”

“Gadreel is just one of my many, many, siblings,” Gabe leaning back against the bar and shrugging, looking pleased with himself - _though that was likely just his resting face_ -.

Dean squinted, besides brown hair, he didn’t see the resemblance.

“Gadreel?” Dean huffed into his glass, “ I get Gabriel, there’s tons of Gabriel’s, but where do you get a name like Gadreel?”

Gabe pretended to busy himself surreptitiously scrubbing out a lowball glass, “It's an angel name, Dad was a religious nut, and his name started with G so he decided all his kids should have G names too. Actually, now that I think about it…” he paused to examine his reflection in the polished glass, “dad may have just been an overall nutbag”

Dean opened his mouth to say something snide, then remembering he was named after his grandmother he decided to mind his own damn business and went back to his drink.

“Mom would have killed me if I didn’t get little bro the job,” Gabe paused eyeing Dean like he wanted him to ask why.

Dean let him hang for a long minute draining the rest of his glass and wiping his mouth before asking.

“Yeah, why?”

“Gadreel used to be a security guard for some big designer store downtown,” Gabe poured a drink for himself in the glass he’d just cleaned coming around the counter with the bottle to join Dean, - _the bar was emptying out for the evening_ \- .

“He let the wrong person in, the store got robbed, and he copped accessory charges for shit he didn’t do, ended up doing a stint in prison for it, it’s hard to get a job after that.”

Dean snorted, that sounded about right. The world was like that. You thought you knew how things worked one minute and then one friendly gesture later it spits in your face. 

_And Dean was beginning to think Sam was one of the most worldly people he knew._

“So how's that going for you, working with your brother,” Dean snorted at the concept, imagining Sam working at the shop was like imagining hiring a dog as a bailiff for one of Sam’s courtrooms, a terrible yappy one with a penchant for biting you in the ass.

“It’s fine, he’s a little stiff, ee-mmedially kills the mood if anyone tries to ya’know actually talk to him, but one look from him is all it takes to keep a hot-headed drunk in line so,” Gabe shrugged, “all things considered it’s a good trade-off.”

“Hmm…” Dean gave an unconvinced huff of a laugh.

“You ever work with family Deano?” 

You could never completely tell with Gabriel, whether the man was actually trying to be a friend or just trying to get his patrons to buy more drinks. Dean hadn’t been in the mood to talk when he’d arrived but after four whiskeys the sun was burning low on his inhibitions...

“My dad…” Dean threw Gabe a bone tapping his glass in his general direction, “we uh… we worked together at his auto shop from when I was sixteen until a few years ago.”

Gabe poured him another glass, “Last call… I knew you worked at an auto shop, didn’t know it was your dad’s…”

“Yeah… he left it to me when he passed, it’s not like Sam would know what to do with it even if he actually wanted it.”

The bar owner had the good graces not to comment on his dad’s death.

“Sibling problems Dean?”

_But apparently not the good sense not to ask about his brother._

“My brother’s a lawyer out in California, kid works in some big corporate firm and yet can’t breathe without letting me know how much more righteous he is, how that works I’ll never fucking know.”

Gabe snorted, “I got an older brother like that, Michael, real piece of work.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose.

“He goes by his middle name, first name is actually Gary,” Gabe quickly explained.

_Very biblical name Gary..._

“Yeah, well one idiot brother is enough for me,” Dean muttered darkly.

Today had been about six steps too far, Sam had never been as close as Dean was with their dad even before the divorce and after… he barely spoke to John from the time he moved out of the house until John’s eventual death.

Still Dean thought that even if John meant nothing to the man anymore that maybe this… thing they did... that it was **their** thing, meeting and going to pay respects at John’s grave. That they could just go there and deal with whatever shit they had about what had happened and just not be alone.

But inviting a kid, THAT kid… clearly what Dean thought and what Sam thought was very different.

He had no idea what their yearly meeting meant to Sam, if anything, and that terrified him. 

Dean sat not saying another word clutching his glass so hard he was afraid it would shatter. Gabe seemed to lose interest after a while getting up and moving away to chastise his own little brother.

“Hey, man go easy on the tables you’re gonna wear thru the varnish…”

Dean quietly got up, peeling a wad of cash out of his billfold and laying it on the counter, he was done talking for tonight. He headed out of the bar weaving slightly to call a cab.

The house was just as dead quiet as when he left it, he flicked on the lights, it didn’t really help anything, just threw the closed doors of his parents and Sam’s empty rooms into sharp contrast as he stumbled up to bed.

It was two in the morning when his cell rang a few hours later, bringing his throbbing head back into the land of the living, he saw Sam’s name and shut it off annoyed, going straight back to sleep.

Only minutes later, the landline rang.

Dean kicked off the covers swearing under his breath before stomping downstairs to snatch up the old yellowed relic, ready to unleash a tirade at Sam.

“Do you having any fucking clue what time it is!?”

“Dean?”

It wasn’t Sam but the voice was vaguely familiar, “who’s this?” he yawned.

“It’s… Cas… Castiel…” the man sounded shaken, “Samuel gave me your number.”

There were strange unidentifiable sounds in the background of the call. Still half drunk, Dean stayed silent in bewilderment.

“I um… I’m at the hospital... It’s Jack,” the man's voice cracked.

“There’s something wrong with Jack…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun,  
> and thus it begins...
> 
> I'm so excited to write this AU, it's my first longer style fic (my longest before this was 3 chapters)


	2. A history of dumbassery, inadequacy, and definitely not a dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester's make desperate attempts at being functional adults for Jack's sake, it doesn't last.

“Dean, are you still there?” Castiel’s voice was tilting away from fear into the realm of frustration and irritation again.

There was a long pregnant pause before Dean responded.

“What?”

He recognized the noises in the background of Castiel's call now.

_A tinny intercom with someone repeating a doctor’s name in a cool casual tone, distant the ringing of phones, a crying baby..._

The sounds of a busy emergency room.

“Jack he…” Castiel took a shaky breath trying to gather his shit, “we… we went back to our hotel after… what happened at the cemetery.”

Castiel finally seemed to balance himself on the rock that was him being annoyed with Dean. Dean was too damn tired to care.

Castiel rambled “Jack said he was tired and had a headache so I gave him some Advil and let him sleep. I thought he was fine, upset…" he jabbed the word at Dean, "still getting over the cold he caught at school, but fine..."

“Please get to the point,” Dean groaned, he vaguely remembered the teenager hacking up a lung in the graveyard earlier that day. “So what? Does the kid have the coughing plague or something?”

Castiel went dead silent.

“We… we went out for a late dinner last night and he…” his voice broke, “Jack collapsed, he had a seizure.”

Dean’s mouth went dry “...Shit.” was all he could say.

Dean’s medical knowledge didn’t really go beyond the basic first aid needed for the occasional burns and bruises that came with working around hot engines and moving parts in the auto shop. But years of watching… certain soap opera’s told him that was very bad.

Unless...

“Is that… normal for him?” Dean asked lamely, he wasn’t exactly an expert on Jack’s medical history.

By the time Jack came around Dean had already moved out, and he hadn’t exactly been going out of his way to spend time with the kid in the few years Jack lived with John part-time. He’d only really even seen Jack when John absolutely couldn’t find a sitter and had to have Jack hang out in the office during work.

“Would I CALL you if it was?” Castiel nearly spat, voice shaking, clearly regressing back into panic mode.

Dean bit back a spiteful, “Then why the fuck did you call!?”

He wasn’t heartless. Even if the two people in question were people he’d pay good money to have not come within the same state as him ever again. A kid in the hospital… it was rough shit.

When Sam was little he’d broken his arm jumping off the front porch railing of their house. ( _trying to be Superman_...) He remembered his parent's frantic frustrated arguing on the way to the hospital about who was supposed to be keeping an eye on Sam.

_His mother trying gently to get his little brother to sit still for the x-ray. The sound of Sammy crying._

Dean settled on the slightly less harsh, “What do you want from me then?”

Castiel gave a long-suffering sigh, the one Dean inevitably heard whenever he tried to speak to the man, like he was trying to explain physics to an eight-year-old.

“They… they want to run some tests, blood, an MRI, I know one thing they’re testing for is meningitis, and if it’s that’s what it is…” He let the sentence hang.

There was another voice in the background of the call. probably a nurse by their soft reassuring tone and Castiel’s uneasy thank you’s. He came back after a moment.

“Listen they're moving Jack to a room if he does have meningitis... then the doctor will probably want to see you and your brother or… something. I’ll… I’ll call you later in the morning when he’s settled in, please just… get here alright…?” Castiel sounded as exhausted as Dean felt.

Dean suppressed a yawn, “Yeah… yeah sure just um… how about after the sun comes up next time eh?”

Castiel abruptly hung up and Dean blinked blearily at the phone for a moment before snorting.

"Typical..."

The combination of liquor, lack of sleep and the sheer bizarreness of the conversation were making the whole call feel surreal, like a bang on the roof in the dead of night you weren’t sure if you imagined.

Maybe whatever was going on with the kid would sort itself out by morning and he wouldn’t have to deal with this…

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Seven-ten the next morning Sam watched John's big black muscle car pull up beside his hybrid in the parking lot of Lawrence Memorial. Dean exited the car wearing a pair of dark aviators despite the fact the sun had only just risen.

“Long night?”

Dean pulled off the glasses and shoved them into his jacket pocket shooting Sam a deadly glare, clearly not over what happened the day before.

“Did Saint Castiel tell you anything new?” Dean said draining the last of a cup of fast-food coffee.

“I still don’t know why you insist on calling him that,” Sam said with a long-suffering sigh.

Dean tilted his head sardonically, tossing the cup in the bin by the door, “Yes... you do.”

“Let me rephrase that.” Sam's voice sharpened, “Maybe just don’t today, okay Dean? Maybe for once act like a functioning adult, because this is neither the time nor the place for your bullshit…”

Dean stared at him eyes narrowed for a long moment before his posture relaxed and he shrugged.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Sam said in mild disbelief.

Dean sighed and scrubbed at his eyes, wincing, “yeah fine, I get it. This shit it’s... crazy.”

There was a long significant pause.

“Castiel said he’d meet us up by the pediatrics ward…” Sam said after a moment studying the hospital entry’s diamond-patterned linoleum.

“Pediatrics?” Dean seemed to wince at the sound of the word.

“Yeah, Dean… Jack’s 16,” Sam muttered, turning to walk inside without another word. He felt like maybe it was time for Dean to stew on that fact for a while.

Things were quiet for the entire ride to the third floor, each Winchester fuming in their separate corner of the elevator.

The door dinged pleasantly before popping open to reveal a pacing Castiel, his suit jacket rumpled like he hadn’t taken it off since they met the morning before.

“Thank god finally.” he breathed, “I was beginning to think…” he sighed and shook his head, “never mind I just… the doctor’s need you to answer some questions about your family...”

Castiel trailed off seeming to lose interest in explaining turning on his heel and walking determinedly down the corridor to the ward entrance, Sam and Dean looked at each other for a moment before Sam shrugged and followed quickly behind.

“Is he… is Jack alright?” Sam asked awkwardly.

“He’s um…” Castiel sighed and paused to punch in a number in the keypad that kept random passersby out of the pediatrics ward. “He’s been really out of it since we got here, he’s sleeping now.”

There was an electronic chime and he quickly opened the door, “he’s in the third room on the right…” Castiel muttered.

Something about the statement bothered Sam and he quickly caught up with Castiel, “they’re keeping Jack on a normal ward?”

“Hmm?” Castiel blinked back sheepishly.

“It’s just… when you called you said they thought he might have meningitis,” Sam said carefully, “and if he did I doubt the medical staff would let us, let alone Jack himself near any of the other patients.”

Castiel stopped walking again but didn’t look at him, “No they um… he doesn’t have a high enough fever and or stiffness… they don’t think it’s that anymore…”

Sam nodded eyes narrowing sheepishly, there was something about that answer that made him uncomfortable.

It seemed Dean didn’t have any trouble putting his finger on what it was, “Why didn’t you say that when you called this morning?”

There was an awkward silence inappropriately punctuated by the sound of children giggling in the distance. Castiel still didn’t look at them.

“I mean that was the reason you gave us to come today… right,” Dean’s words were deceptively casual.

Maybe it was his own vague hurt that kept Sam from telling Dean to shut up.

“What? Did you think we wouldn’t come if we didn’t think It’d affect us?” Dean said cooly, mouth twitching.

Castiel finally turned to look at him eyebrows drawn together in a warning.

“Dean maybe you shouldn’t…” Sam tried before being cut off by a hand, Dean’s eyes didn’t waver unphased by Castiel’s glare.

“Is that really what you think? That if you needed us we’d just let Jack, a kid, suffer? Do you think we’re that petty?”

“I…” Castiel’s eyes darted in the direction of Jack’s room. Through the window, Sam could just spot the boy's blanket-covered feet at the end of the bed.

“Do you really think we're that shitty of people!?” Dean’s voice rose.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed and he snapped back to Dean, “Think of you? I don’t **_think_** about you at all Winchester. I don’t **_know_** you!”

They both stared each other down for a long moment, sizing the other up. For a moment Sam thought they might start a fight right there in front of the wall mural of children of every race and color playing ring around the rosie, complete with a happy Sun.

But the moment came and went.

“We would have come Castiel…” Sam said quietly.

Castiel finally looked up eyes watering slightly, and Sam could have sworn he saw the man’s hands shake.

“I couldn’t risk that…” he said softly.

The tenseness was broken a moment later by a sing-songy drawl.

“Well looks like the rest of the pissy party parade has arrived, so how about we take this little shindig out of the hall…”

Sam nearly leap a foot in the air, he hadn’t heard the nurse walk up, she stood behind him giving all three of them a smile that radiated the energy of someone who would just as easily disembowel them as assist them with medical care.

_With all their racket they probably deserved it._

“I’m sorry…” he glanced down at her name tag, “nurse Masters.”

She tapped her nails against her clipboard and gave him the same thin smile, “alright cupcake,” she tilted her head towards Jack’s room. “Right now there’s a very confused medical student sitting in there trying to figure out how exactly he’s supposed to get a history from RipVanWinkle, I figure he’d have more luck with you three.”

Cas moved first huffing softly quickly hurrying past the nurse forgetting the argument the second he was reminded of Jack.

Dean strolled slower behind the man still looking pissed off, leaving Sam alone in the corridor with the nurse who smiled at him expectantly.

“Right, sorry…” Sam unfroze and sheepishly followed.

Sam tried to look anywhere but at Jack when he entered the room, Castiel had automatically taken a seat in a chair on the far side of the boy’s bed, his coat and a thin blue hospital blanket were thrown across the back of it like he’d been camping there all night.

Dean went to lean against the far wall arms crossed, staring down a terrified-looking Asian kid in a lab coat clutching a clipboard to his chest.

By the time Sam took a seat beside the door and the nurse came in behind him the room was far too crowded for comfort.

In a room full of people he didn’t want to lock eyes with the unconscious kid in the bed suddenly became the least daunting sight.

There was an abrasion on Jack’s brow bone and a long bruise trailing down to his chin, like he’d fallen and hit head hard on the way down.

_Sam wished he felt more._

Jack was a pale stranger of a teenage boy, upsetting but...

_Sam wondered if he was walking alone down the hallway and looking into the rooms if he would have even been able to pick Jack out of the other faces in their beds._

Seeing Jack like this made him feel pity and sadness, but it was far from the deep-seated fear and worry on Castiel’s face

_Jack was supposed to be family_

Guilt bloomed in Sam’s chest. The only memory that he could pull up at will was that Jack loved goldfish crackers when he was two. He tried to look closer at the boy on the bed, pluck at the strings of his own heart.

He focused on how Jack’s breathing was a little too fast and shallow, the heart rate on the monitor a little too rapid…

The kid was hooked up to an IV and about six different sensors, some wires trailing down the neck of his hospital gown, one clipped onto the middle finger of his left hand. The opposite wrist and hand were strapped in a temporary splint, like his face probably a casualty of the seizure the night before.

The thought made Sam wince.

_God this was a joke._

Someone cleared their throat, “I uh… hello…” Sam broke out of his self-deprecating reverie.

It was the medical student in the lab coat, gripping his clipboard and nervously eyeing Dean. He yanked his eyes away to focus on Castiel.

“Are these the um… brothers you were talking about?”

Castiel didn’t look up from where he was straightening the blankets over Jack’s chest.

“They’ll be able to give you the information on his father’s side that I couldn’t,” he muttered distractedly.

“Half-brothers,” Dean said cooly from his position by the wall, “and I’m right over here.”

The nurse whistled strolling over to the side of Jack’s bed and picking up his chart.

“If nothing else…” she read, “Jack… will get a healthy dose of machismo today.” She frowned at something on the chart before clipping it back over the end of the bed and stepping closer to the monitor.

“Try not to make the med student piss himself okay? Bringing the janitor in here would put the room capacity over code,” the nurse said still squinting at the clipboard.

“Is something wrong?” Cas asked her a little alarmed.

She gave him a smile no more sincere than her previous ones, but with worry and attempted comfort in the place of irritation.

“Don’t worry about it daddy dearest, nothing’s... changed.”

The way she said it didn’t seem all that positive when she immediately followed it up by leaving the room at a brisk pace.

They all stared after her awkwardly for a few seconds.

“A-about that history,” the med student said the tone of someone being forced to tell a joke at gunpoint.

Dean was still staring at guy though he looked more puzzled than threatening now. Dean had probably just been hungover in the first place and got the lab coat confused with the white wall when staring into empty space.

“Dude, I’m not going to eat you…”

The med student looked thoroughly unconvinced.

“Fine, you want history right?” Dean pulled one of the plastic chairs across the floor and leaned back against the wall, “ask away Kevin.”

The kid opened his mouth looking confused before glancing down at his name tag and turning red, “Right, um… your father?”

Dean turned to address his answer at Castiel. Castiel didn’t bother looking back.

“Died of a heart attack age 45, don’t know about his dad, grandma lives in Florida looking like she’s live to an ornery 105, anything else? I’m not here to hide anything” Dean shot the last sentence at Castiel before turning back to face Kevin.

The kid jumped.

“Y-yeah… your father’s heart attack, was it related to any pre-existing cardiac or pulmonary disease?”

Dean glanced up at Sam tilting his head befuddled.

“Heart and lung problems…” Sam huffed, “he didn’t have any I know of.”

“Yeah…” Dean looked down twirling his aviators in his hands, “he had high cholesterol, shitty bachelor’s diet and all that you know?”

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered, “yeah because that wasn’t his own choice or anything.”

“Bite me, Sam.” Dean grinned at him leaning back in his chair again.

“If you’re not going to be helpful then leave,” Castiel barked suddenly shooting both brothers a steely look.

The door slid open again and nurse Masters re-entered with her hands full.

"I leave for two minutes and you' start the orgy without me,” she dropped her armload of supplies down on the rolling table at the end of the bed and got to work.

“Listen I can and will use the skills I've gained changing the sheets of three hundred pound men solo to kick your asses out of here so behave…" she warned.

Sam and Dean's faces mirrored mild shock.

Castiel didn't notice, distracted, hovering over the nurse's every movement around Jack.

"Did she just threaten us?" Dean whispered plunking his chair back on four legs.

"I think so," Sam blinked.

"Can she do that? Like legally?" Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes, "I don't think she cares…"

Nurse Masters finished fitting a nasal cannula around Jack's face and then marked down something on his chart, flashing one last patent murder grin before leaving.

“Thanks…” the med student squeaked after her, quickly looking back to his clipboard when he realized everyone was staring.

“So um… is there anyone with a history of epilepsy in your family…” Kevin said not daring to look up again.

“Nope,” Dean sighed, distantly pissed again.

“Autoimmune disease?”

“Sam?” Dean said looking at him expectantly.

“No…” Sam sighed going to look through his emails on his phone, feeling more out of place by the second. He cleaned out his inbox to the tune of Dean’s repeated “no’s”

"Diabetes?"

"Nope," Dean yawned

Kevin tapped his clipboard with his pen, "Cancer?"

“Actually we did have a second cousin who’s died of cancer,”

“Oh?” Kevin’s head tilted up almost seeming relieved.

“Lung cancer, she smoked like three packs a day and worked in a literal asbestos factory,” Dean blinked and giving him a weird look.

“Oh…” Kevin trailed off.

“Cas?” a feeble voice broke the monotony.

Sam fumbled and almost dropped his phone, looking up.

Jack was waking up. The blanket shuffled slightly and he coughed hoarsely.

Castiel jumped and went almost immediately to hover over the teen.

The kid's eyes were half-open glancing lazily around at the ceiling and Castiel like they weren't quite taking everything in.

"Jack?" Castiel asked voice quivered, "Jack I'm right here…"

The boy blinked dazedly reaching an exploratory hand up to feel the tube on his face tugging a little on the iv in his arm in the process. He blinked blearily at it for a moment and then his eyes snapped open breathing speeding up fearfully.

"Jack are you okay? hey hey, Jack… look at me…" Castiel carefully laid a hand on his shoulder, "you're in the hospital."

Jack went stiff in his bed arms held awkwardly in front of him hovering over his chest like he was scared to move and accidentally yank on something important.

"No… no I…" he breathed looking around panicked, wincing, his eyes caught sight on the splint on his arm.

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled giving another hacking cough and tearing up, "did I… did I get in a fight? I'm sorry, please don't ground me…"

He didn’t even seem to notice Sam or Dean in the room.

"No Jack you're not in trouble you didn't do anything," Castiel quickly reassured him with a soft smile, "you… you fell Jack…" his voice cracked.

Something in Sam’s stomach squirmed like he was invading something incredibly personal and private.

Castiel took a steadying breath that came out almost as shakily as Jack’s."Y-you had a seizure, Jack…"

The teenager’s eyes widened.

“Do you… do you remember anything about what happened?” Cas reached out to gently relax Jack’s arms back on top of his blanket.

“M-my head hurt… I…” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I felt… weird, I went to the bathroom…” he trailed off.

Cas smiled sadly, “you did, and you locked the door…” he gently held the boy's non-splinted hand, “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”

Dean must have felt as out of place as Sam because at that point, with barely a sound he got up, face unreadable, and left the room.

Jack finally noticed his older siblings then roaming glazed eyes landing bewildered on Dean’s retreating back before shifting to Sam.

Sam’s chest jumped and he opened his mouth searching for something to say but Jack looked quickly away as if burned before he could get anything out.

It hard for Sam to resist following Dean right out the door after that. Instead, Sam tried to busy himself on his phone drafting an email to his work that he’d be a day late flying back.

“No no, I…” Jack face screwed up and he coughed again much harsher than before into his free hand, “I can’t,” his breath came out in a wheezy huff between coughs.

The medical student Kevin came to the side of his bed and picked up the control pushing a button causing the back to come to a half seated position.

It seemed to help because the coughing eased after a few moments and Jack was finally able to finish his sentence.

He cleared his throat, his pale face stained pink from the stress of the attack, “I… I can’t be in the hospital… we need to go home… I need to feed F-felix.”

_"Felix? Did Jack have a dog or something?"_ Sam thought.

Castiel comforted him gently, “Jack you fed him before we left, it’ll be at least another week before you feed him again.”

_“Ah so… definitely not a dog then…”_

“M-maybe you could bring him here?” Jack looked up at him hopefully.

Castiel blinked it was his turn to look confused, “Jack I don’t think they let pets in the hospital.”

“I… I’ve got school tomorrow…” Jack muttered conversation changing mid-stride looking unfocused past Castiel, “we… we have to go back.”

“Jack, you’re in the hospital I think the school will understand,” Castiel shot the medical student a worried look.

“He’s um… they have him on morphine for the arm, he might be a little… confused?” Kevin looked a little unsure himself.

“Mr. Edlund hates me…” Jack muttered trying to push himself weakly up in bed, “he’ll fail me.”

Castiel sighed, placing a hand on Jack's chest, “well then it’s good that I work at your school, I’ll just have to talk Chuck out of that okay?”

Jack seemed appeased by that and relaxed back against his pillows.

“I actually needed to ask Jack a few questions for the form,” Kevin said after a moment awkwardly clicking his pen.

Sam’s eyebrows rose, Castiel shot Kevin a look.

Kevin cleared his throat suddenly studying his clipboard like it held the secrets of the universe, “Um have you recently taken any drugs, Jack?”

Jack hunched up defensively giving Kevin a suspicious look, “Yes… but you gave them to me…”

“Okay,” Castiel broke in aggravated, “maybe now… isn’t the best time for that?”

“P-please don’t,” Jack cleared his throat, “call the c-cops…” he took a shaky breath and launched into another fit of coughing.

Castiel gently patted the boy's back as he curled in on himself coughing into his hands Castiel’s expression quickly turning to one of alarm as the coughing was broken up by almost choking gasps.

“Sh-should we call someone?” Sam asked nervousness sinking into his stomach. Kevin opened his mouth unsure.

It took a minute for the coughing to gradually ease, Jack’s face red and eyes watering as he shakily regained his breath…

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, the hand not on Jack’s back gripping the bed rail like a lifeline.

Jack was squinted befuddled into his hand, “I… I think I coughed up a lung…” he mumbled before raising his hand for all to see, “look…”

The medical student turned dead white fumbling around for the call button.

Jack’s palm was coated in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mystery deepens.
> 
> I'm looking to update this fic every week though I'm experimenting with which specific day of the week works the best. :0


	3. Shitty coffee, Schrodinger's door, and the joys of the American medical system.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: description of seizure in this chapter.  
> And finally some Cas POV!

Kelly almost never got sick when she and Cas were kids, maybe the occasional seasonal sniffles but in all of Cas's memory, she was never seriously sick, not even the flu.

_It had made her eventual death when Jack was born even more of a shock._

Castiel remembered when he was nine and she was sixteen the rest of their family was down in bed with the flu, Kelly was the one up perfectly healthy checking in on everyone and making them soup.

Jack had always been the same as his mother in that regard, Cas could count on one hand the grand total of sick days Jack had to take off school since kindergarten. He’d never so much as broken a bone up until now.

_So why hadn’t he been able to pick up that something was really wrong sooner?_

He should never have brought Jack back to Lawrence. When they got the call from Sam the week before Jack was so excited. It had been almost hidden under apprehensive disbelief and the way he’s anxiously couldn’t meet Cas’s eyes but Jack had been holding back an unsure smile. 

His siblings wanted to include him in something...

Cas had a bad feeling about it from the start, neither brother had spared more than a passing glance at the boy since John Winchester’s death. People didn’t just drop back into your life after ten years as if they never left, there were always strings attached, always a catch, and he didn’t want to subject Jack to that.

He'd even had a ready-made excuse, Jack was already grounded for the nonsense he pulled during his last world history test.

But... Jack had been so excited, and these men were his family, part of his past he rarely if ever got to interact with; and it was the anniversary of John death, Jack’s _father’s_ death. 

_Jack was almost seventeen, who was he to keep him from meeting his family? What would it do to their relationship if he did?_

It had been a mistake.

The cough Jack seemed to finally be getting over after a week crept back up on him during the eight-hour drive from Indiana to Kansas and was only exacerbated by their first night in the hotel.

_And then they went to the graveyard._

He knew before Dean opened his mouth that they should've stayed home. The panicked look of shock on Sam’s face was enough to tell Cas they hadn’t really expected them to show up.

Was it just out of courtesy that he’d even called?

_And now Jack was hospitalized a good few hundred miles from their home with god knows what._

He wished the look of rejection on Jack’s face was something he’d never seen before, and maybe he hadn’t, at least… never like that, never that crushing.

The ride back to the hotel had been so quiet, only broken by the occasional soft cough. Jack just stared out the window biting his lip like he was trying desperately not to cry. Castiel was afraid to say anything because if he accidentally said the wrong thing and Jack lost the tenuous hold he had over his tears Cas had no way to comfort him and drive at the same time.

He’d tried to talk to Jack as soon as they pulled into the hotel parking lot but by then the teenager’s eyes had already dried up. Jack didn’t reply except to say his head hurt and…

“I just want to sleep,” his voice was so soft and hollow.

Castiel let the subject drop, buying some Advil from the small hotel commissary and leaving Jack to curl up in bed. He didn’t want to push him, not now.

_“We should have never come…”_

He kept repeating the words in his head over and over, more rapidly now a day later with Jack propped up on his side in a hospital bed, Castiel holding a little pink plastic kidney-shaped dish a nurse had given to him for Jack to spit the blood he kept coughing up into. A new doctor who’d introduced herself as Hannah listened to his breathing with a stethoscope through the open back of his gown.

_It turned out doctors came a lot more readily when you weren’t tucked away in the corner of a busy emergency room._

Cas’s heart was beating almost as fast as Jack’s on the monitor as he puzzled over the symptoms of the past two days. None of it made any sense. 

Even the doctor looked mildly perplexed as she meticulously worked Jack over, whispering gentle platitudes to try and keep the teenager calm.

Jack seemed to out of it to really care, too drugged up and exhausted to really process the world around him. His normally clear and inquisitive blue/hazel eyes dull and wrong, it was enough to make Castiel feel sick to his stomach.

Samuel Winchester was still perched in a chair by the door like a giant nervous pigeon ready to fly off at the first sign of trouble. Balancing on the edge of indecision just like the evening before.

_“It’s your ridiculous dithering that got us stuck here.”_

Part of Cas wanted to tell him to just leave, follow his brother out, but every time he worked up the energy to tell Sam off Jack started coughing again. 

There were more important things to keep his attention.

The doctor gently asked Jack to roll back onto his back and she began looking in his mouth and throat with a penlight and tongue depressor. Jack watched eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. Castiel set aside the little bloody basin and gently squeezed his hand.

She paused after a moment sitting back eyebrows and mouth tightening thoughtfully before she spoke again.

“I need to hear your timeline of events again…”

It took Castiel a moment to realize she was addressing to him, her eyes fixing on him expectantly.

Castiel cleared his throat, “from where?”

-

_He’d let Jack rest for several hours after they got back to the hotel, sleeping through the worst of his headache etting the pain medicine take effect. He only woke Jack at around eight PM because he thought it was important for him to have **something** to eat before resting for the night, especially since they were supposed to leave early the next morning to drive back home. _

_Maybe he should have noticed how quiet he was after what happened in the graveyard. Jack was an emotional kid, usually when he was really upset he either sulked pointedly or cried, now instead… he just slept._

_Maybe he should have noticed how listless Jack seemed when he’d woken him up, but he’d pinned it on not having eaten since their early lunch and the stress of the day._

-

“The seizure, I need to know what happened with the seizure and directly before…” The doctor was saying with the same soft comforting quality in her voice that she used with Jack.

“We um…” Cas took a shaky breath.

-

_They’d stopped in a little mom and pop diner for a late dinner, a small place with worn red vinyl booths and Americana icons like vintage road signs and old coke bottles propped up on high shelves. It was a familiar place where Castiel had sometimes met John to pick up and drop off Jack before and after the weekends when he was little. They had many a pancake breakfast there on monday mornings._

_It seemed more comforting after the rough day than an ordinary fast food joint and it felt oddly appropriate considering the anniversary of John’s death. He thought it might bring Jack’s spirits up._

_But Jack had just been quiet, head leaning on his hand, elbow resting on the table, mumbling that he wasn’t really hungry. He only ordered some french fries at Castiel’s insistence that he should have **something**_ _._

_Castiel felt a pang of anxiousness pressing on his chest as he watched Jack slowly stir a fry in ketchup and nibble at the end._

\- 

“He seemed okay… I thought…” Castiel paused and shot Sam a glance he didn’t feel like starting another argument in front of the doctor. “I thought he was just tired because he was still getting over a cold and was upset because it had been a really stressful day. I asked him if he was okay…”

-

_Jack had just shrugged not looking up, continuing to pick at his food, “I’m just not hungry.”_

_“I meant about what happened earlier…” Castiel insisted gently, feeling like a terrible role model having barely touched his own meal._

_“It’s fine,” Jack unrolled his silverware from its napkin and started to experimentally cut off the outer crispy layer of a short fry, not looking up at his guardian._

_“I shouldn’t be disappointed because I shouldn’t have expected anything in the first place,” Jack muttered harshly continuing to mangle his fries, “they don’t owe me anything, I should have stayed home and studied for finals.” He winced suddenly dropping the knife he was using and reaching up to rub his temple._

_Worry rose in Castiel’s stomach, “Is your headache coming back…?”_

_“Can I have my phone back?” Jack deflected to the tabletop._

_“No you’re still grounded,” Castiel batted the misdirection away concerned, “Jack please, talk to me.”_

_“I said I’m fine...!” Jack’s voice came out harsh cracking halfway through his elbow slamming down on the table._

_He blinked and jumped like he’d startled even himself, Castiel was about to chastise him for yelling when he realized just how white the boy had gone._

_“Jack...:” Cas said uneasily. Hesitantly he started to rise from his side of the booth, worry growing by the moment._

_“No! ...I’m sorry I…” Jack winced again squinting for a moment looking confused, “I didn’t mean…”_

-

“I should have done something then…” Castiel muttered half to himself fiddling with the edge of the blanket the hospital lent him, he couldn’t even look Jack in the eye now. 

-

_“I… I’m going to the bathroom…” Jack muttered slowly getting to his feet._

_Castiel teetered for a moment hand resting on the edge of the table considering following the teenager._

-

“I… I thought he had a stomachache or something I didn’t want to embarrass him…” Castiel tried to explain, feeling like he needed to justify his decision to the doctor and himself.

-

_As the minutes passed though and Jack didn’t return Castiel’s worry grew to deep unease. Maybe whatever bug Jack had contracted was worse than he thought. He quickly pulled out the money for their food and went to find the men’s room near the back of the diner._

_He tried the handle and realized it was a single stall when it didn’t open, he heard no noise inside except a faucet running._

_He knocked tentatively beneath the wooden “Gentlemen’s” pig attached to the door. “Jack?” he asked cautiously, “Are you alright?”_

_There was no sound for a long moment, then suddenly, violently, there was a hollow bang and a muffled thud._

_Cas’s heart dropped into his stomach, eyes widening, “J-Jack!” he frantically knocked and getting no response panicked and uselessly twisted the door handle trying to force it open._

-

“I ran to find someone,” his breath sped up at the memory.

\- 

_He rushed away from the bathroom grabbing some poor waitress by the shoulder asking desperately for the bathroom key frightening her in the process. She thankfully understood his hysterical ramblings and went to find the owner._

_Then Castiel was repeating the story to the man, voice shaking in panicked exasperation and they went quickly to unlock the door._

_-_

“I should have followed Jack..” Castiel found himself repeating.

-

_They heard a strange soft rustling noise through the door when they made it back to the bathroom, but Cas hadn’t recognized it, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw when the key turned and the door swung open._

_Jack was on his back one arm crumpled beneath him, his entire body twitching and jerking violently against the tile floor the muscles in his face and neck painful tensed._

_“Oh god, Jack…!” Castiel breathed rushing to his side, Jack’s eyes were rolled back and unseeing and blood was trickling down the side of his head._

_He yelled to the shocked owner to call 911, frantically pulling off his trenchcoat and folding it to place under Jack’s head running over everything he learned in college and the high school’s recent classroom first aid seminar. His hands were shaking almost as violently as Jack’s body._

_There was no sound except the strained whimpering groan uttering from Jack’s mouth and the still running faucet. The last eighty-odd seconds of the seizure that Castiel managed to count before Jack fell limp felt like an hour._

_After it ended Castiel mechanically checked Jack’s rapid pulse with shaking hands and pulled him onto his side into the recovery position._

_It felt like days before the ambulance arrived._

-

The doctor’s next questions mirrored those of the paramedics, and he was just as helpless to answer them.

“How long did the seizure last?”

“I'm not sure…” 

_Why wasn’t I with him when it happened?_

“What caused the injury to the side of his face and head?”

“I-I don’t…” 

Castiel took a shaky breath trying to center himself back in reality, it all felt like a nightmare, like it happened to someone else.

“I...I think he hit his head on the sink when he fell, but I don’t know. As for the seizure, I… I was only there for part of it, and that was eighty-three seconds but he was in the bathroom for longer than that.”

He could feel Sam Winchester watching, his mouth slightly open like he wanted to comment, maybe to try and say something reassuring, he didn’t really care just felt vaguely irritated. It made him feel exposed. 

Cas felt a hand on his arm shaking with the force of more coughing.

“It’s… okay… I’m okay now,” Jack tried to comfort him smiling blearily up at him from his hospital issue pillow blood still smeared on the corner of his lip.

Cas smiled back shakily, wanting to scream.

The doctor looked thoughtful searching through Jack’s chart for information. “What happened after you arrived at the hospital…” she asked them carefully setting aside the clipboard looking disappointed with what she found.

-

_Jack only regained consciousness after he was loaded onto a gurney to be transported in the ambulance. Castiel didn’t get to speak to him as Jack only managed to mumble a few answers to questions from the paramedics (used to judge his mental state) before passing out again._

_He’d thought everything would be easier when they got Jack to the hospital but after the initial buzz of the arrival and a quick physical exam of the barely conscious teenager, there were only a few promises about scheduling an MRI before they were left alone in an ER bay._

_The place was buzzing with activity and noise on a Saturday evening, an apparent drunken accident involving a bunch of partying Kansas University students shoved beyond capacity into the back of a Chevy taking priority._

_This time it_ **_was_ ** _actually hours before another doctor came. A nurse stopped by every once in a while to check on vitals and then help put Jack’s swollen wrist in a temporary sling. Castiel felt ill, with everything else going on he hadn’t even noticed the painful injury. Jack’s only major response to being touched was to clench his teeth and groan against the discomfort moving caused._

_Jack didn’t seem to mind the wait, the seizure had completely drained the last of what little energy he had to begin with. He’d laid terrifyingly limp and small on that hospital bed._

_Cas eventually took to standing outside the bed’s privacy curtain anxiously trying to get the attention of passing staff, most too busy to do anything but mutter vague platitudes about how the “doctor would be with them soon” before going on their way. He knew in hindsight it was probably rude and unhelpful but at the time he couldn’t think straight, he felt as if Jack was rapidly slipping away from him._

-

“How long was it before you were seen?” the doctor’s voice was soothing.

“It was…” he rubbed his forehead trying to concentrate, “just after midnight so… about three hours? There… there was a shift change, I think. A new doctor came on the ward…”

-

_He remembered getting the attention of what felt like the hundredth staff member that night, a woman with curly hair in a doctor’s coat with a lanyard that read Doctor Amelia Richardson._

_“Ma’am please, my son,” he always went with son in situations like this, not so much to usurp John’s position, - as Dean might have accused him of - but because he was too worried and harassed to go through the whole 'nephew, uncle, legal guardian’ talk over and over._

_She seemed irritated at first sighing slightly before opening her mouth to start the same speech every passing ER worker had given him._

_“Please, we’ve been here since nine, he’s in pain, h-he…” she seemed to sense the anxious desperation in his tone and finally, finally listened to his babbling, alarm creeping into her expression when he got to the part of his speech about Jack having the seizure subsequent to him knocking his head into a bathroom sink._

-

“Apparently it was somehow confused with the initial report because I couldn’t confirm when the injury happened,” Castiel chastised himself.

“Shhh…” Jack mumbled tiredly patting his uncle’s arm eyes half-closed, clearly starting to drift off to sleep again.

\- 

_Doctor Richardson had quickly and quietly gone through the curtain to look at Jack, his heart rate elevated from pain and whatever was happening in his body, coughing shallowly and barely responsive to her prompts._

_If she had been worried when Castiel mentioned the possible head injury-induced seizure she was absolutely livid when he mentioned that Jack had had a headache all of that afternoon and flu-like symptoms for the entire day. She was suppressing fury through gritted teeth when she’d confronted the lead doctor in charge of the ER._

_“Well, I’m glad. I’m sure those college kids will be happy they were treated promptly when they find out they have to come back in because they were sitting in the emergency room with a kid symptomatic of meningitis for several hours…”_

_To Castiel’s relief, things moved a lot faster for Jack after that._

-

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for the inaccurate report, it was a traumatic confusing event,” Doctor Hannah said kindly. “And Jack’s MRI didn’t show signs of brain injury or meningeal swelling so it’s very unlikely what happened was caused by his fall or meningitis …”

Castiel nodded and sighed shakily. The information was bittersweet, he was glad Jack wasn’t brain-damaged but at least either issue would be an answer, something the hospital understood and could treat.

_Now Jack was coughing up blood… and Castiel was even more lost than before…_

“I… have a theory about what might be causing this new symptom…” the doctor told him carefully.

Castiel’s head shot up hopefully.

The doctor smiled kindly, before explaining, “on the sides of Jack’s mouth and tongue, there is evidence of cuts caused by his teeth either from the fall or biting down during the seizure,” she hesitated, “there wasn’t bleeding visible around his mouth in the paramedics' report.”

Castiel was quickly beginning to question the competence of these specific paramedics, and the doctor’s next words did nothing to help him stop questioning his own competence as a parent.

“Because Jack was unattended during a good portion of the seizure there’s a good chance he swallowed blood… possibly aspirating… breathing it into his lungs.”

There was a long pause, the possibility was terrifying but…

“So… so will he be alright?” Sam Winchester said the words Castiel couldn’t bring himself to hope.

The doctor smiled sadly, “Aspiration can be dangerous, it can cause complications like pneumonia, and it doesn’t explain the seizure itself, his increased heart rate, or the pre-existing cough… but if I’m right we can treat it quickly and hopefully avoid any more problems.” 

Finally, Castiel let himself relax.

“We’re going to need to take Jack for a chest CT in a few minutes, and then a bron- … we’ll have to look in his lungs to confirm,” she explained gently.

Castiel looked back at Jack, his breathing was still labored but he had finally fallen back to sleep he hated that he’d probably have to be woken up again so soon for yet more poking and prodding.

“Can I… can I go with him?” Castiel asked quietly gently squeezing the boy’s arm.

“Of course…” she said with the same level of cautiousness as before, like she was afraid one more reminder of Castiel's inadequacy as a guardian would push him over the edge.

At this point though, Castiel felt numb. Like all the horror and anxiety of the last twelve hours had reached a peak before plateauing into a high distant hum. 

"I'm not going to leave you Jack…" Castiel whispered to the sleeping teenager, "not again…"

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

Minutes later Castiel followed Jack's gurney when the nurse came to wheel Jack off for scans and Sam was left alone standing awkwardly in the corridor.

He was a little vague on medical law having never practiced it but he was pretty certain they didn't let more than one family member stay with a minor for support during this sort of medical procedure. And it wasn't as if he had the right or the gall to fight Castiel - _the man who raised Jack_ \- for the spot.

So instead he stood awkwardly in the corridor sheepishly juggling his phone between his hands and trying to make a decision on what to do next.

After his third strained smile to a passing nurse he decided coffee, coffee was a good idea, and set off in search of the machine he'd seen in a waiting area on their way in that morning.

_'What the hell are you doing Sam_?'

He honestly wondered if he should be here at all, he felt like all he did was make things more strained. If he was going to insert himself back into Jack’s - and by extension Castiel’s - life like an unwanted splinter maybe he shouldn't do it when everything was already so tense and tender.

He sighed and let his self imposed mental abuse carry him all the way to the brightly lit waiting room.

He felt even more out of place amongst the anxious and tired huddles of various patients families. One exhausted woman was half asleep in one of the dull pink chairs as her two healthy children poked around scattered parenting and Better Homes and Gardens magazines.

The only person who stuck out worse than Sam was the man sitting beneath the food pyramid poster beside the vending machines, nursing his second cup of coffee that morning.

_'Ah, so he didn’t leave..._ '

Sam pointedly ignored Dean slipping a dollar into the coffee vending machine.

"You have to grab a cup off the top, the part that drops them is broken…"

Sam just grunted vaguely refusing to look at his brother but following his advice.

"So, what? You're just going to ignore me now?" Dean said hollowly, no real bite to his words.

"What do you want me to say Dean," Sam still didn't look at him.

There was a pause and Sam heard him shuffle uncomfortably.

"Did anything… happen after I left?" He asked carefully.

"Oh yeah," Sam said thornily, jabbing his order into the machine buttons, "Jack started coughing up blood."

Dean snorted, "Sam I'm being serious."

Sam gave him a pointed look around the side of the machine.

Dean's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, "fuck man…"

"They took him for a chest X-ray," Sam muttered shoving a lid on his coffee and starting to walk off without another word.

"Where are you headed?" Sam heard Dean get up and follow him.

"Radiation lab," he muttered, he couldn't stay in the waiting room with those parents, it felt wrong and they were starting to shoot the two of them dirty looks because of Dean's foul language.

"You're pissed," Dean noted.

Sam grit his teeth, it wasn't a question, it didn't deem an answer. Dean knew what he did. Sam didn't fit in that hospital room, but did Dean even try?

"Why are you even still here Dean," he said bitterly not slowing his walk back to the elevator bank.

Dean was silent, brooding, probably remorseful when they got into the elevator. Sam didn't care.

He was just like John like that. He did something shitty that hurt the people around him without thinking and then 'felt bad about it' when he was confronted with the damage later. Sam was sick and tired of it.

"Well fuck Sam," Dean said louder than necessary arms crossed, exasperated, "tell me what am I supposed to be doing?"

Sam turned to glare at him, "you think I know? We're all flying blind here but how about to start with not doing whatever the hell that shit you pulled was!"

His brother glanced around the metal box like he was searching for answers in the floor directory.

"Castiel shouldn't have lied…" Dean tried.

Sam snorted, "no shit Dean, but you're not six…"

Dean fell silent again as the elevator doors popped open, not arguing with Sam, either knowing he was right or else not willing to _prove_ him right by screaming in the open hallway.

"Fine, sure, I just…" Dean sighed shoulders drooping and rubbing at his face, "I barely know these fucking people, maybe you're right maybe I should just leave…"

Sam was surprised by how fast the fight went out of his brother's voice. Part of him wanted Dean to escalate, wanted him to give him a reason to take all his anxiety and frustration at just one of it's sources.

"Don't…" he found himself saying, breathing deeply trying to calm himself down, wasn't he supposed to be the younger sibling?

"Why…?" Dean asked flatly.

The answers floated foggily in Sam's perception. "We should be here, I think we owe that to them."

Dean opened his mouth to argue with him but seemed to quell his need to go off on a tangent, "yeah well, I don't think they want me here."

"Well be here anyway," Sam said dryly.

"And do what Sam, sit in the corner and… and look sad?" Dean said, frustration and exhaustion clear in his face.

"Just be here Dean…" Sam wasn't sure when it became clear to him. "If they ask for something… If they need something, be there…"

They both fell quiet after that standing outside the radiology lab. Sam sipping his lukewarm coffee, Dean with his arms crossed seeming lost in thought.

They didn't have much time to brood though as one of the doors opened and out came a harassed looking Castiel talking quickly on his phone.

He began pacing the hall.

"I… I'm sorry please can this wait until later… yes I know it's nearly noon…" he glanced up just long enough to spot Sam and Dean before looking quickly away, embarrassed.

Sam looked determinedly at the far wall trying to tune the conversation out, it didn't really work.

"I can pay, of course, I can pay for the extra day, you have my card… I… fine can you please just give me a few hours…" the man was biting his lip face tightening with stress.

"Until two?" He sighed frustrated, "no no I can get there, I can get there… just, leave the luggage alone...”

"Yeah… thank you too…" Sam heard the snide irritation creep into Castiel's voice.

Sam heard Castiel end the call and finally looked innocently up. The man was looking at them, fiddling nervously with his phone and looking unsure.

"What's up?" Dean asked nonchalantly. Sam blinked not even aware is brother was listening.

Castiel drew himself back up straightening his tie and composing himself, "Is there any taxi or bus service in Lawrence…?" He asked.

"What happened to your car?" Dean asked.

Castiel gave him a suspicious look before answering a little sheepishly. "Because I'm an idiot, I rode with Jack in the ambulance."

"What did that guy want?" Sam asked cautiously.

Castiel sighed fiddling embarrassed again, "The hotel, we missed the checkout time this morning, I completely forgot about it with um…"

The sentence hung heavy.

"Do you want a ride?" 

Castiel and Sam both stared at Dean like he'd grown a third head.

Dean shrugged and shot Sam a thin smile, "what? I'm _being_ here…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, Awkward car trips and even more awkward attempts at bonding, the story starts to move forward.
> 
> Hey guys I just figured out that my writing process for a chapter isn't so much a week as it is exactly 9 days... weird I know.
> 
> Anyhoo I was traveling all this week and will be all this coming week so there is a high likelihood the next chapter will be nearly a week late though I will do my best to keep up pace. :)


	4. Crony capitalism, big needles, and pep talks from hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean take an awkward car ride to deal with an annoying little man.  
> Meg attempts a pep talk and Sam is in over his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof And I'm back from vacation :) Sorry this took a few more days than I thought but the chapter turned out longer than I thought 21.5 pages instead of my usual 14. So... really it's about a chapter and half long, please enjoy.
> 
> TW for this chapter: Needle mention

It was nearly another hour before the doctors were done testing Jack and Castiel was ready to head back to the hotel. He'd been determined to stay with the teenager until the doctors finished up their scans (and whatever else they were doing involving the kid's lungs and cameras), and then he'd practically held Jack's hand all the way back to his hospital room.

Dean didn't know much about the teen but he figured if his parents did that when he was Jack’s age he would have been mortified.

Then again Jack still seemed far too high on pain meds to really give a shit about what was going on around him.

_It wasn't as if Dean was going to say anything either way._

He didn't seem to be able to say much of anything lately without running his mouth off and starting World War bitchface.

The Klines always seemed to bring out the worst in Dean. Any time he saw Castiel the man always treated him the same.

_Even from the very first time he'd taken the flight with his dad up to Washington state to meet with him when Jack was a newborn._

Castiel always seemed to look at the Winchesters like they were his enemies, like he expected John and Dean to stab him in the back the second he turned away.

Dean was sure it would be that same suspicious stuck up face the man would pull if he dared to turn to look in the Impala’s passenger seat.

Castiel had been nearly silent following Dean out to the parking lot, only thanking him stiffly and asking him if he needed directions to the hotel across town.

“I live here,” Dean said harsher than necessary, immediately regretting it and following up with a gruff, “just tell me the name, I’ll find it…” 

_God that was fucking awkward._

At least Dean had an excuse with Castiel…

Jack was… Jack was some awkward kid who as far as he knew didn't deserve the hot ball of fire that rose in Dean's chest every time he saw him. He didn't like the person he became inside when he saw the kid and he wished more than anything Jack would just go back with his smug uncle a few hundred miles away.

_Why Castiel with all his suspicion and mollycoddling had thought it was a good idea to bring Jack back to Kansas… He didn't know._

But Dean had told Sam he’d be there while Jack was sick… and he didn’t want to let Sam down again. 

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't see himself as a part of Sam's little remorseful crusade to make what happened _right_ but Sam mattered. So he’d try to grin and bear it, deal with whatever this was until it was over… and things went back to normal.

The car was uncomfortably quiet the radio off as Castiel was making phone calls to what sounded like a school.

"No no, please don't let Mr. Sully substitute for my class, he’s too lenient with the students they'll never finish their review packets on time for the exam…"

Dean squeezed the wheel and tried to remind himself to just focus on the road and mind his own damn business.

"Th-the exam?" he heard after a moment, "I… I um…" 

He heard Castiel take a shaky breath.

"I… we should be back in time for me proctor it, if… if everything goes well…" there was a long silence. "No… they still don't… they don't know…"

Dean felt like running the car into a ditch to escape.

"I… I'll let him know you hope he feels better… goodbye…" Dean heard the man’s voice choke slightly before he hung up.

He could hear Castiel breathing shakily, see him blink rapidly to clear his eyes in the mirror. It almost shook something loose in Dean too.

But like Castiel, he shoved the feeling back and clicked on the radio instead.

Led Zeppelin's " _The Rain Song,"_ started it's mournful tones and Dean quickly switched it off again.

The car was too quiet yet again.

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, the silence was somehow worse than listening to a grown man near tears.

"So, you're a teacher?" he asked vaguely just for something to fill the void.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Castiel blink dubiously at him

"High School science…" he muttered shuffling in his seat slightly uncomfortable, "Advanced Placement Biology… and Physics."

Dean gave a non-committal noise of acknowledgment.

He thought for a moment back to when he first met the man.

_Don't ask, don't ask…_

"I thought you were going to school to be a doctor or something?"

There was a pause he could feel the man's eyes on him.

"Nurse Practitioner… and that was a long time ago…" Castiel said with an odd tone in his voice, cutting short the line of questioning. 

There was no sound for a long moment and Dean tried to focus back on the road.

"The turn is up on the right…" Castiel said after a moment glancing at the time on his phone with an anxious brooding expression.

"Dude you have half an hour until two, chill," Dean muttered under his breath half hoping he wouldn't be heard.

"It not your property or your reputation on the line Dean," Castiel said stiffly, the stick in his ass somehow jamming up higher.

Dean took a deep breath and shoved down his need to aggressively defend the honor and **reputation** of mechanics everywhere.

_Sick kid, sick kid, dude has a sick kid…_

"I am driving though you know…"

Castiel finally relaxed slightly, slumping back into the anxious guilty posture he'd had at the hospital. It made Dean feel almost worse. 

"I'm sorry… thank you…" Castiel said quietly, "let's… let's just get this over with…"

The hotel came up quickly on the right side of the road Dean raised an eyebrow, the way the dude on the phone talked and Castiel acted you would have thought he was late checking out of the Ritz Carlton.

This place had the "O" and "T" literally burned out of the lit "Hotel" sign and the pool looked like a suspiciously green public health hazard.

_Maybe that's where Jack picked up whatever plague he had._

"It's… changed ownership since the last time I stayed here," Castiel tried to explain looking sheepish.

Dean just blinked at him incredulously and pulled up to the office, "Yeah… sign says under renovation… probably looks great inside."

He couldn’t _not_ rub the obvious in a little, not with the way Castiel acted, he'd explode.

The man rolled his eyes, "Just… wait out here, this should only take a minute to sort out."

He slammed the passenger door a little harder than necessary getting out of the car.

Dean flicked back on the radio, now more appropriately playing Harry Nilsson's - "You're breaking my heart." 

He turned it up and gave and gave Castiel an insincere smile when he turned back to glare at him.

The man just rolled his eyes again and went inside.

Dean waited as "You're breaking my heart" along with three other songs came and went and still Castiel hadn't returned. Dean tapped impatiently on his steering wheel turning the engine off to conserve gas.

Dean tried not to let his curiosity get the better of him, first telling himself to stay in the car, then telling himself he was only going inside to share his annoyance with Castiel taking his dear sweet time.

_Real convincing._

He heard arguing as he got closer to the door.

"I'm not going to pay you to get our luggage back, you said nothing about that over the phone!" 

When he pushed open the ajar office door he saw Castiel leaning against the desk and arguing with a short man dressed suspiciously well for the shitty barely air-conditioned office he was in.

Some scruffy little dirtbag sitting in a nice chair, in a fancy suit, surrounded by four walls covered in peeling dark maroon wallpaper that probably been there since the place opened.

"Well I'm sorry, but it's policy, it was in the room contract that you signed."

_British accent too, wasn't he special._

"I already paid for the extra day…" Castiel sounded harassed.

Dean's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline something about the situation felt wrong and he nearly backed right back out the door.

_Don’t get involved._

"It's a new policy introduced to encourage our guests to check out on time, I’m sorry if you feel that way, but it's in the fine print," the man shrugged smugly.

Searching his mind Dean couldn't come up with a more punchable face, it felt familiar though like he’d seen it before.

Castiel blinked at the man looking mildly disgusted before sighing and pulling out his wallet exasperated, "I really don't have the time for this how much do you need…"

The man in the suit shrugged, "I'll give you the discount, a flat fifty dollars." 

Dean reacted to that without really meaning to, whistling at the fee, both men finally seemed to notice him at the door.

Castiel looked away quickly somehow even more embarrassed than before.

Part of Dean wanted to be happy about it, to be just as petty as his brain told him he deserved to be. To see the man who seemed to permanently assume he and his family were the scum of the earth (despite the fact that they shared half their blood with his sister's kid) embarrassed. 

But… he couldn't.

Because this was a fucking joke. Separating himself from his feelings about Castiel this was some asshole separating a man from his money simply because he was desperate enough to actually pay it.

Dean found himself speaking, “It’s just… fifty bucks is a little steep, don't you think? Considering your room rate is only forty-five a night?”

Where most people saw a parent scared senseless and in a tight spot this asshole just saw dollar signs.

"You know I was just thinking…" Dean leaned nonchalantly again the frame of the office door, "it only really makes sense to try to get your customers to obey the rules by threatening to hold their junk hostage if they already knew that rule existed when they checked in."

"Ah," the man smiled at him with mild malice in his eyes, "Well, as I said, it’s in the contract I’ll just have to make it more obvious next time…"

_Yeah right..._

He reached out for Castiel's money but Dean found himself speaking again.

"I'm guessing Cas here told you he wasn't able to meet the check out time because he's been at the hospital all night, because his kid is sick…"

"Dean," Castiel shot him a warning voice full of mild panic like he was afraid of the very real possibility that Dean would make things worse.

Dean kept his eyes on the bargain basement con man.

The man had the decency to look nervous, "While I have the greatest sympathy for your friend here, I can't afford to look away this time. I only recently acquired this place and we're in the middle of renovations you see."

The man’s face finally clicked in Dean’s mind.

"And what did do before you bought this place, sell used cars?"

The little man looked like he about fit the colorful descriptions of the seller half the lemon owners who came into his auto shop described.

"You're name is Crowley right?"

Dean felt a hand suddenly tighten on his shoulder, Castiel had moved at some point without him seeing.

"Could you please excuse us for a moment?" he said through gritted teeth shooting Dean a frustrated look.

Crowley seemed mildly relieved to look away from Dean, "of course…," he smiled casually, "I have nowhere to be…"

Castiel's mouth twitched and he almost dragged the larger man out of the office.

_As soon as they were out of earshot…_

"What are you doing!?" Castiel asked looking exasperated.

Dean blinked at him for a long moment before replying, "you can't tell that dude is playing you?"

Castiel's mouth opened and closed before he huffed, "I don't know? But do I look like I care?" 

The man looked like he was about to blow a vein, all the nervous energy that Dean thought was building up to get to the hotel was still there. Dean felt like an idiot.

It was never about the stupid fucking suitcases or his reputation...

"Look," Dean said carefully, "I'll get you back to the kid just go get your things, wait at the car… if I'm not back in five minutes I'll pay the stupid fee myself and we'll leave, okay?"

Castiel hesitated looking unsure, tettering, but the need to get the hell out of there won out.

"Five minutes…"

Dean smiled thinly patting his shoulder awkwardly and tossing over the keys, "thanks."

Castiel gave him one last incredulous glance before leaving in search of the luggage.

Dean headed back to the office to deal with the con man.

Crowley smiled nonchalantly as if nothing had happened, "finished the lovers quarrel and here to foot the bill?"

Dean huffed, "You're really sticking to this bullshit aren't you?"

Crowley gave a fake tired sigh, "Again, it is not 'bullshit' it is written into the contract all guests sign when they rent a room, I'm just holding them to it."

Dean puzzled over what to say for a moment his mind turning to Sam…

"Well you know there's a law that protects customers from…" Dean searched for the word Sam threw around whenever Dean called to ask him about anything law-related, "predatory claims like this…"

Crowley's eyebrows rose mirthfully trying to cover slight nervousness, "it's a contract, it's not my fault your friend didn't read the fine print before he signed."

"Really because penal code…" Dean rolled the mental lottery, "67845 C says otherwise."

Crowley looked skeptical.

"Believe me I know, I own an auto shop people try to use it all the time when they get a rate they don't like…" Dean lied through his teeth giving a small shrug.

"Well, I highly doubt anyone who stays in this dump would have the cash lying around for a frivolous lawsuit…" Crowley said unconvinced crossing his arms.

It seemed like the innocent owner act was finally slipping but unfortunately, Dean knew he was probably right.

Mary had worked at the local high school teaching history for a while after she and John separated, Dean knew a teachers salary wasn’t exactly high.

"Look I'm sorry about your friend's situation, I really am…"

_Bullshit_

"But I apply the same rules to every customer, I can't bend them for one person. My mother once came in wanting a free room saying she was terminally ill,” The man shrugged and leaned back in his chair with a squeak, “I did not give it to her."

Dean’s eyebrows rose.

"Relax she was lying…" Crowley said flatly.

_Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree I guess._

“I… I really don’t care,” Dean said back just as monotonously. 

He was beginning to worry. It didn’t seem like logic or appealing to Crowley’s “ _better nature_ ” was going to work.

It wasn’t about Castiel, it really wasn’t, he told himself. It was just this man thought he could get away with this ridiculous and bad-natured con just to get a quick buck and he’d probably continue to prey on people who didn’t have the money to stay at a nicer place and fight back.

Dean was going to have to change tactics.

“Do you still own that shitty car lot along with the shitty motel?” Dean asked innocently.

Crowley’s eyebrow rose in fake offense to Dean’s overt implication.

“I do own both establishments yes…” 

“Mmm…” Dean tilted his head and smiled mirthlessly, “so how about you forgive Cas’s luggage debt and I don’t post the six-page list of complaints I’ve gotten about your lot up in the waiting area of my auto shop…”

\-------

Dean exited the office a minute later to see Castiel pacing the length of the Impala.

“Did it work? If it didn’t I promise I can pay you back I…” the man had started wringing his hands anxiously.

Dean raised a hand to cut him off and smiled like the cat who got the canary. 

\- _Which it turned out was sheepishly, like he had a mouth full of feathers and was questioning his life choices -._

“Don’t worry about it… it’s done,” Dean said vaguely before quickly changing the subject, “you get your stuff?”

Castiel still looked a little puzzled but nodded, “I put the bags in the backseat…”

Dean grunted satisfied before climbing into the car himself, “Let’s get you back to your car so you can get back to your... hovering.”

He said it half talking to himself like it meant nothing.

_Let’s get this over with…_

Castiel nodded hesitantly before climbing in the passenger side.

Dean turned back on the car, the radio resuming it’s blaring of the classic rock station and they left the crap show of a motel behind.

Castiel said something he couldn’t quite catch.

“What?” 

Castiel huffed and reached over to turn down the radio, much to Dean’s chagrin.

“I said… thank you…” the words were dragged like Cas was struggling under the weight of the sentence.

Dean shrugged not looking up from the road, “You don’t have to, I would’ve done it for anyone, dude was shady.”

_It was probably true..._

Castiel seemed to go back to staring into nothing out the window.

Dean’s thoughts began to nag at him.

“So where are you staying tonight?” managed to slip out, “I mean, obviously you aren’t staying at that dump anymore…”

Castiel was quiet for a long moment, “I’m probably going to stay with Jack at the hospital again, I’ve already been away too long...”

Dean grunted non-commitally, he couldn’t imagine sleeping in one of the hospital’s half cushioned pink monstrosities they called chairs.

“Why are you asking?” Cas quipped back.

Deans shrugged cooly, “I mean it’s just, what are you going to do when you need a shower or something?”

Castiel bit his lip unsure, “I’ll get a new hotel room.” 

Dean gave another half-convinced huff. 

\- _As in he only had half of either man convinced he was convinced of anything._ -

It took all of ten seconds before Dean blurted...

“I mean probably one of the reasons that jackass was in such a hurry to chase you out of his place was there’s gonna be a premium on shitty hotel rooms around town with Kansas University big spring preview ga-...”

“Dean…” Castiel cut him off sighing rubbing at his face, “I… I appreciate what you did for us back at the motel I really do, but I don’t need you to play host or anything like that.”

Dean’s mouth opened and closed awkwardly and he focused back on driving, 

“I was just going to recommend a few places,” Dean lied smoothly.

Castiel seemed to take the excuse, “I’d actually appreciate that…”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Sam resumed his awkward chair perching in Jack’s hospital room as soon as Castiel and Dean left.

He’d bought a black stuffed bear holding a little yellow “Get well Soon” heart while waiting for Jack to come out of the lab in an attempt to make things a little less awkward.

Did sixteen-year-olds even like that sort of thing? He wasn’t sure but thankfully Jack was passed out again by the time Sam got back upstairs from the gift shop.

_He didn’t seem to want to do much more than sleep lately…_

Part of Sam hoped to hell that Jack wouldn’t wake up until his uncle got finished with his business at the hotel. But at the same time it was not wanting the kid to wake up alone that held him in place in the hospital room.

Sam pulled out his laptop determined to get some work done on upcoming court documents as Jack remained peaceful in his bed. An orderly came in at some point to deliver a lunch tray for the boy.

After about a half-hour though Sam could hear Jack’s breathing speed up and set aside the computer concerned.

A thin veil of sweat bloomed across the teen’s forehead and the muscles of his face grew tense, teeth clenched. He was in pain.

Sam pushed the nurse call button, but when they arrived they explained the pain medication was originally given when they were resetting his wrist and they were letting it wear off until they had a better idea what was going on in Jack’s body.

The thought made Sam wince but as there was nothing he could do he tried to ignore the sounds from the bed and go back to typing up his court document. 

It worked for all of ten minutes.

Jack started to move around restlessly in his sleep and finally, Sam heard a pained sigh and a soft anxious, “Cas…?”

The teenager had woken up.

He pushed himself up on one elbow coughing into the crook off his arm and blinking around owlishly searching the room for his uncle.

Jack’s eyes met Sam’s only for a moment before he seemed to shrink into himself again looking down to study his bed covers. The dazed drugged look in his eyes had passed but it was replaced with a pained glassy awareness, like he was looking at the world through a feverish haze despite the fact the monitor only read a mild ninety-nine point seven degrees.

Sam cleared his throat and finally gave an answer, “He… he went with Dean to sort something out at the hotel…”

“O-oh…” Jack said disappointed still not looking up, fiddling with a loose string on the edge of his blanket before sinking back against his pillows.

Sam searched for some way to help cheer him up feeling like “The Problem”™.

“Castiel should be back soon they just had to pay for the hotel and pick up his car from the restaurant you went to last night…”

Jack nodded against his pillow noncommittally, wincing slightly at the movement.

“Are you in pain?” Sam asked stupidly already knowing the answer.

Jack eyed him warily pulling the thin hospital blanket tighter around him, “I’m alright, headache…”

There was a long pause before Sam tried again, he couldn’t blame Jack for not wanting to talk to him. Even before the incident in the graveyard they’d never been close. He didn’t think being in as vulnerable a state as he was at the moment would make him much more comfortable around Sam.

Most of Sam’s memories of Jack were of a tiny crying blonde baby that grew into a shy but curious toddler who sucked on his fingers and took to following his much older brother around the Winchester’s house. When Sam couldn’t find an excuse to stay at his mom’s or be out he rarely volunteered to watch the baby unless there was no other option. Because at the time that was all Jack was, “a baby,” who cried and got into things and required Sam to be around John longer than he cared to be.

For Sam the first two years of Jack’s life were a game of avoidance with their father and by extension Jack himself. The only consolation was that Jack had probably been too young to retain any memories from that time…

And it wasn’t as if any of the newer memories Jack had created of his older brothers warmed him to either of them. John’s funeral, a no-contest court hearing when Jack went to live with Castiel full time… and now the one time he’d tried to open up to his half-siblings he’d just gotten burned. They’d be lucky if he ever trusted them again, even in a situation where he wasn’t alone, and terrified, and feeling absolutely horrible in a fucking hospital.

Sam pushed away the urge to descend into another self-hating spiral.

“They brought you lunch…” Sam tried pulling the cover tentatively off the tray and revealing it’s rather unappetizing contents. 

Jack just blinked at him and coughed hoarsely into his arm, his breathing was still wheezy but at least it didn't sound alarming like choking like before.

Sam pushed the buttons on the bed controls to push the back of bed into a more upright position like he’d seen the med student do before.

_At least there didn’t seem to be blood this time..._

“Th-thanks but I… I’m not really hungry…” Jack rolled over onto his side facing away from Sam trying to clear his throat.

Sam sighed a little to himself with a pang of concern. When was the last time Jack had eaten? He’d been sleeping most of the morning and early afternoon and Sam remembered Castiel mentioning he’d had very little to eat at the diner the night before. 

“You should still have something,” Sam said, trying to think of what Castiel would want if he was there.

“I mean there’s…” he looked over the paltry spread, a meat sandwich of some sort, a mug of rather gray looking chicken soup, a fruit cup, and… “there’s lime jello, that looks good?”

Jack grumbled mumbling something that sounded like " _then you eat it_ ", before looking up and hugging himself with a grimace, “No thank you.”

“Well… the nurse said they could bring you something else if this didn’t…”

“Sam…” Jack interrupted him sounding a little frustrated.

Sam quickly shut his mouth.

“I… sorry,” Jack looked down at his lap poking at the splint on his sore wrist with his free hand, “I just… my head hurts… and my stomach’s kind of bothering me…”

“Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” Sam asked cautiously rubbing his hands together in front of him to suppressing the urge to lunge for the nurse call button again.

“No!” Jack said quickly blushing pink crossing his arms in front of him, “It just... hurts, it’s probably f-from…” He coughed roughly again into the crook of his elbow, “coughing so much…” he muttered frustrated. 

“I just,” he sighed, “I just want to rest okay?” Jack attempted to give Sam a reassuring smile that didn’t quite cover the pain lurking in his dark bruised eyes.

Sam sat mouth slightly open for a moment before deciding to let the subject drop and covering the lunch tray again, “Okay…” 

Jack tried to get comfortable under his covers again and Sam tried to get back to working on his laptop. But when he caught Jack’s eyes again, they were looking in mild confusion at the small bear sitting in the chair beside Sam like a second visitor.

The teenager turned pink and he looked determinedly away when he caught Sam looking at him.

Sam’s mouth twitched slightly, and he thought that maybe he made at least one positive decision today.

“I um I bought him for you…” Sam said a little sheepish, holding out the bear, “I wasn’t sure if you still liked that sort of thing… but…” he trailed off.

Jack watched him unsure for a moment before tentatively reaching out a hand to take the bear, wincing a little as he pushed himself up into a seated position in bed and stared at it for a long moment. For a split second, a small smile crossed his face.

“Thank you…” He said softly, gently running the fingers of his non-splinted hand over the bear’s soft fur before going red in embarrassment again and reluctantly perching it beside his uneaten lunch on the rolling tray table facing towards him.

He settled back against the pillows and they both relaxed for a moment into silence Jack trying to settle into sleep. 

It didn’t seem to work, without the painkillers he shifted almost constantly occasionally huffing sounding exasperated like he couldn’t find a comfortable position. The beads of sweat across his forehead seeming to grow more prominent, his eyes tensed shut. His lip occasionally quivering like he was trying not to cry.

Sam wished there was something he could do to end the kids suffering but he felt like anything he did would be unwelcome, just make the kid more emotionally tense and uncomfortable alongside whatever pain his body was already in.

He was relieved a few minutes later when the nurse from earlier entered.

“Are you sure you can’t give him anything for the pain?” Sam asked quickly wringing his hands slightly.

“I wish I could big man really…” She smiled thinly, more of an empathetic grimace, “but they want to run more tests without any drugs in his system for reference… and I’m just coming in him to prep him for the LP…”

“LP?” 

Sam and nurse Master’s looked back to see Jack peeking at them warily over the sidebar of the bed, “what’s that?”

The nurse looked a little hesitant for once before smiling in an ‘oh honey’ way that was not at all reassuring.

“It’s a procedure to collect spinal fluid and test pressure around your spinal cord, I believe the doctor is trying to rule out possibilities for what caused you to have a seizure,” the nurse began moving the lunch tray onto the empty seat beside Sam and setting the bear at the foot of Jack’s bed.

“Sp-spinal fluid,” Jack mumbled going a little pale(r), knees pulling up to his chest.

“Isn’t that what they do to test meningitis?” Sam froze for a moment, “I thought didn’t think it was that?

Jack went more white if that was possible and looked at the nurse wide-eyed.

If looks could kill the one the nurse gave Sam would get her convicted.

“Maybe that's why they’re in a hurry to try to rule it out, ” nurse Master’s explained sardonically, before turning to Jack and speaking in a much kinder voice, “ and there are hundreds of other issues that are not meningitis that can be ruled out through spinal fluid…”

Jack was still pale but seemed to relax a little at that, “Wh-what are they going to do to me?”

Nurse Master’s explained, “What the doctor is going to do when they come in… is called a lumbar puncture, they’re going to numb part of your back and carefully use a needle to collect spinal fluid from the space between your vertebrae…”

Jack’s eyes were wide as saucers and his voice shook when he finally spoke again.

"W-will…?" He paused swallowing and looking down centering himself before speaking again hands gripping his blanket, "will it hurt?"

_Sixteen suddenly felt absurdly young..._

The nurse gave a practiced but not unkind answer, "The needle for numbing medication should be the worst of it, after that you shouldn't feel much more other than pressure on your lower spine.

Jack nodded and tried to smile back like he fully understood, it came off as a frightened grimace.

"Can… can it wait until my uncle gets back?" He asked hopefully.

"Wish I could do that for you kiddo, I really do, but the doctor wants to get this done as soon as possible, so I guess you're stuck with Mr string bean over there."

Both the nurse and Jack looked in Sam's direction with an unsure expression…

Sam was momentarily tongue-tied, "I um… I can just wait outside if that's better, I don't want impose if…" he trailed off seeing the nurse giving him a contemptuous look, “what?” 

She shrugged, "I was just wondering, you two don’t look much alike are you really his brother or some weird perv who snuck in when we weren't looking?" the nurse said sarcasm somehow still bleeding from her monotonous tone.

Sam blinked taken aback mouth twitching irritated, "I… I really don't think that's…"

The nurse's eyebrows rose pointedly at him silencing him again.

"Jack I need to talk to your brother alone for a moment outside okay?" she gave Jack a thin smile.

Jack just nodded the prospect of what was coming, making him seem to physically and emotionally curl into himself, refusing to look at either of them.

Sam sighed setting his laptop under his chair and following the nurse outside.

And as soon as they were...

"I really don't know how things are run around here but you are really out of line…" Sam started his “lawyer voice” cut off by a withering look from the nurse.

"Are you really planning to leave that kid alone in there?" She sounded disbelieving like he’d just admitted to planning to abandon Jack on the side of the road somewhere.

"Look lady," Sam was beginning to get irritated himself, "I appreciate what you are trying to do but you know _nothing_ about me or my family, yesterday was the first day in about six years we've seen each other, it would be…” he tried to search for the word but couldn’t find it settling on, “inappropriate… if he wanted me there he’d say so."

The nurse crossed her arms unphased, "Fine, I don’t know you, but you wanna know what I do know? I work here every damn day and I know a freaked-out kid when I see one. A kid like that? Sixteen? If you’re waiting for a personally signed invitation he’s probably not going to give you one because of macho bullshit or because he’s trying to prove how he's a 'grown-up' or something. But you want him not to talk to you for another six years? Leave him alone to get needle shoved in his back…”

Sam’s mouth hung slightly open but he had no retort for that. There was a movement behind him and he glanced back to see the doctor from earlier go into Jack's room.

The nurse’s expression hadn’t changed when Sam looked back at her, “Now I could call another stranger to stay with him during the procedure but somehow I think a familiar face might better don't you?"

Sam didn't respond glancing back again through the room window the doctor who was doing the procedure was re-introducing themselves to Jack who looked on warily, still hugging his knees.

Sam heard the nurse still talking to him "So how about you stow your shit, and go back in there?"

_What if he doesn't want me there?_

_What if I make things worse_?

A hundred quips and excuses and things that could go wrong spun through Sam's head but he finally just sighed and said…

"Okay…"

Nurse Masters huffed and stood straighter, "My hero… now get back in there before the doctor starts without you…" 

Reflexively Sam’s mouth half twitched into a polite smile back and he went back into Jack's room without another word.

The doctor looked up when the large man entered. Jack seemed to still be attempting to study for a doctorate in the pattern on his blanket and refusing to look up so he aimed his uncomfortable smile towards the doctor “Hannah.”

She offered him a more reassuring smile back, “are you the one who’s going to assist me today?

Jack’s head snapped up at that and gave Sam a look somewhere between horror and betrayal.

“I um…” Sam looks unsure, “are you sure I can do that?”

“Don’t worry I won’t ask you to do anything complicated,” she said while laying out complicated supplies on the rolling side table, Jack looking on warily.

“I just need someone to help hold his knees when he’s curled on his side for test, with the IV and his wrist it will be difficult for him to do… As long as that’s alright with you Jack?” she addressed Jack with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Jack nodded silently eyebrows furrowed, eyes still wide.

Sam sat awkwardly in a chair near the bed pulling his it closer to the bed with a strangled squeak giving Jack a strained smile and awaiting further instructions.

The doctor instructed Jack gently to turn onto his side facing away from her. The boy complied strangely quiet aside for a few soft coughs as the doctor dropped the bed flat and carefully rearranged the wires and tubes attached to his body.

When she told Sam to provide counter-pressure for the boy’s knee as he curled up in a fetal position he could feel Jack shaking.

His eyes were clenched tightly shut, breathing shallow and heart beating rapidly on the monitor.

“Jack?” Sam asked gently worriedly.

The boy jumped violently at the sound of his own name, blue eyes opening wide pupils tiny pinpricks.

He looked absolutely petrified.

“You’ve done this before right?” Sam asked Doctor Hannah unsure.

She smiled back carefully pulling on sanitary gloves, “over a hundred times…”

Sam gave Jack what he hoped was a reassuring smile, “see it’ll be okay…”

Jack nodded lip quivering slightly, jumping at the feeling of the doctor applying antiseptic iodine to his back.

He still looked on the verge of tears.

Sam searched for some way to calm him down, something to say, “just take a deep breath… it will all be over soon…”

It didn’t seem to help, Jack’s breathing sped up further.

“Hey hey… Jack just look at me…”

The boy sniffled softly.

Sam was at a loss he knew nothing about kids, he searched the room desperate for some way to distract him.

He spotted and used the hand not supporting Jack’s knees to grab the “get well soon” bear from where the nurse had set it at the end of the bed.

“Remember him?”

_What the hell Sam he’s sixteen not six…_

It seemed to work though because Jack’s breathing slowed for a moment as he blinked at Sam in confusion.

“I, um… sorry…” Sam said sheepishly glancing between the boy and the bear’s duel glassy-eyed stares.

The smallest of confused smiles crossed Jack’s face quickly disappearing with a sharp hiss of pain.

“It’s alright… just the anesthetic… this is the worst part I promise…” the doctor comforted him gently.

Jack gave a tiny nod stiff as a board trying not to move but still shaking slightly. Sam set the bear back on the bed carefully taking Jack’s hand with the IV.

“It’s okay…” 

Jack just bit back a soft strangled noise and gripped his hand tightly until the anesthetic needle was removed.

“The, worst part’s over Jack, but I need you to hold very still for the next part alright?” the doctor says gently.

“O-or what?” Jack mumbled nervously not daring to move to look at her.

“Don’t worry where I placing the needle save for a freak accident there in next to no chance it would cause anything like paralysis, if that’s what you’re concerned about…” the doctor comforted, “But still we want to be very careful…”

That didn’t seem to relax Jack very much but he nodded sheepishly, “I… I’m sorry,” he looked forlorn and like he was embarrassed for even asking.

Sam tried to cheer him up again letting go of his hand just long enough to bop the stuffed bear on the head with his finger.

Jack shot him another weird look but gave him another soft bemused smile through watering eyes and he tried to take deep shaky breaths, hand closed tight over Sam’s again.

When it came time for the needle he fixed the bear with a death stare.

Sam felt numbness spread across his fingers as the boy’s hand tightened as the needle was inserted into his back.

He silenced the knee jerk reaction to tell Jack to ease up when he saw the paralyzed fearful look the teen's face. Tears start to roll unbidden down his face.

Sam couldn’t even convince _himself_ to look at what the doctor was doing on the other side of Jack without feeling woozy he could only imagine what the experience was like for the one going through it.

Unsure what else to do Sam found himself mumbling platitudes.

“It’s alright… You’re doing great… It will be over soon…” the words seemed empty and he felt stupid and for saying them, _Jack barely knew him why should he listen_ , but slowly, surely he felt the boy’s hand loosen a little.

And then before he knew it...

“Aaanndd…we’re finished…” doctor Hannah said smiling gently setting aside the last of three small sample tubes and beginning to clean and bandage Jack’s back.

Sam was surprised Jack didn’t immediately dissolve into a puddle of jello instead just quickly letting go of Sam’s hand and turning a little pink, “thank you…” he mumbled bashfully.

Sam smiled awkwardly back as if he wasn’t flexing his fingers trying to get the feeling back just out of sight.

“Now I’ll want you to lay flat on your back for at least an hour after this, and if you feel like you’re getting a headache that’s perfectly normal…” The doctor said as she cleaned off the last of the iodine.

“I already had a headache…” Jack mumbled, suddenly wincing and giving a hiss of pain as the doctor pressed down on part of his back.

She paused and frowned, “did that hurt?” she asked concerned, cautiously pressing her hand down near the same spot, worryingly far away from the injection site.

Jack gave another wince of pain but nodded.

The doctor’s frown deepened and she moved to touch the same area on the opposite side of the boy’s back getting a similar reaction.

Sam felt genuine concern start to build up in his chest, “Jack said he was having stomach pains earlier,” he found himself blurting.

Jack gave him a look of betrayal but after the doctor finished bandaging the procedure site he obediently rolled onto his back and raised his arms above his head when she asked and let her gently probe his abdomen.

His face screwed up and he actually whimpered when she applied pressure to one side, slightly below his ribs.

Unlike before the doctor’s face was uncomfortably anxious.

“Is… is that bad?” Jack asked nervously.

The doctor's mouth opened and closed before settling on a tight line, “I… I want to run a few more tests…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really love to know what you liked or what you think, even if it's just a sentence or two or a quote you enjoyed. It really, really helps me improve as a writer and gives me confidence knowing people are interested.


	5. Infants, infidelity, and whatever the hell Amoxicillin is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look back into the nightmare surrounding Jack's birth. And we finally see Jack's view of his own Bad Time TM.
> 
> \------------
> 
> TW for this chapter: Talk about food, and vomit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post, I was traveling again, and had my own experience with a family health emergency that made this particular story very hard to write for a while. But I'm back. :)
> 
> Also this is another longer chapter which factored into it taking a while so enjoy that.

**John booked the flight to North Cove, Washington the morning after the phone call that changed everything.**

****

After the initial explosion of screaming and tears shared between Mary and John in the kitchen the night before the house had become quiet as a tomb.

****

Sammy who'd sat wide eyes and confused with Dean throughout the first hour of the argument had fled to his room and only snuck downstairs to grab breakfast the next morning when he probably thought everyone was still sleeping.

****

Sam froze at the top of the stairs seeing Dean sitting wide awake beside still folded blankets on the couch (John spent the night in Dean's old room _._ ) before scurrying back upstairs with his bowl of cereal.

****

Maybe it was Dean’s sleep-deprived brain, maybe it was the need to escape the cloying thick fog of John's sins that covered the house...

****

_‘It would probably take Jesus himself and a couple blessed industrial fans to clear out that choking black cloud.’_

****

But when his dad had asked he'd agreed to take the three-hour flight to Washington state to meet Castiel Kline and…

****

…the baby.

****

Dean couldn't think about it, if he did it would end up just like the night before, this time with him in a screaming match with John, the same questions being asked over and over with no satisfying answers given.

****

He checked on Mary multiple times before they left feeling something at his core pulling him back to his mother.

****

Her eyes were red but her face was calm as she put her hands gently on the sides of his face… 

_‘Like she did when he was a little boy.’_

****

"It's okay… I just… I need some time… I'm taking Sam to stay with the Mosley’s for a few days. Just make sure your dad comes back in one piece okay?"

****

Dean had hugged her, not sure what else to do. He couldn't even tell her it was okay when she cried.

****

Sam just seemed numb, working on the same homework from the night before, barely looking up when Dean looked in on him.

****

_‘For once the kid_ **_didn't_ ** _feel like talking about his feelings…’_

****

Dean was grateful.

****

By seven in the morning, May 20th Dean was boarding the flight with his father. The fact that he was even willing to be within a mile off the airport was a true testament to how desperate he was to flee the house.

****

_‘Being trapped with his dad in the coach section of a metal tube a few thousand feet off the ground wasn’t much better.’_

****

A hundred things had run through his head to throw at his dad, both words and literal objects. But when he saw the man who raised him with bloodshot eyes and a look like he'd had the world pulled from under his feet it made Dean hesitate.

****

_He couldn't do it._

****

If he was to give in to the angry selfish pit in his stomach… Who would keep everything from falling to shit? 

****

His dad… couldn't. 

****

_‘It was John’s secret that had done it…’_

****

Sam had withdrawn from everyone, and Mary… maybe she could but Dean wouldn't even think of putting that on her.

****

So Dean kept his head forward and his mouth shut.

****

He and John only spoke when they absolutely had to the flight, the dark cloud from the house had followed and left them both in a numb haze.

****

"Where are you supposed to meet this dude Castiel?"

****

John barely looked over, "in the west of the city, 106th avenue road… there's an apartment complex there."

****

_‘Who's fucking apartment dad?’_

****

Dean squeezed his next words past the lump of betrayal in his chest.

****

"His place…?"

****

John was silent a long moment, "Kelly's…"

****

Dean's need to fucking scream was cut off by a jolt of turbulence that made him clutch the armrest of the narrow airplane seat and swear for an entirely different reason.

****

The questions still sat bitterly on the back of Dean's tongue.

****

_"How the hell could you do this to mom?"_

****

_"If this shit didn't happen would you have even said a damn thing?"_

****

_"Say something… anything?"_

****

But as far as Dean could see there was no excuse, not for something like this. Just concept of the father who raised him and Sam, who berated him growing up when he lied about something as small as slipping a candy bar in the cart shopping, who taught him what it was supposed to mean to be a man, cheating on Mary?

****

It felt like an alien had taken over John’s body, like something possessed him...

****

Dean would have almost preferred John took his secret to his grave let their family live in the bliss that was fucking ignorance, but now…

****

A woman was dead, and there was a baby… a fucking baby. John's kid. His and Sam's… sibling?

****

Was that even the fucking word to use? How could someone be their sibling, _their family_ , if they only existed because their father betrayed his real family? The woman he’d made his vows to, their mother?

****

It was too big. Just too big to touch, not today.

****

So instead Dean visualized the plane plummeting down to the ground in a blaze of fire and screaming metal because that was for some reason was fucking easier.

****

For once the culture of silence between Dean and his dad came in handy, they only exchanged a few words after that, about who would get the rental car and who would call to check in with the hotel room for the night.

****

Dean asked why exactly they had come, what exactly they were planning to do, John was silent, looking pained over the dashboard.

****

"I… I need to discuss that with your mom…"

****

It made Dean's stomach squirm, it sounded like a question. 

****

_'At least_ **_now_ ** _he was thinking about Mary…'_

****

"Hmm…" was all Dean said trying not to imagine the first time John drove the route to Kelly's apartment not quite nine months earlier.

****

_‘His parents had been arguing about… something before he left.’_

****

John had driven up to Washington to pick up a replacement lift for the shop from a friend, Dean thought he remembered.

****

Kelly’s apartment building was a depressing three-story gray square facing toward the street.

****

_‘Maybe it looked better at night with the six fingers of whiskey paving over the commitment you were supposed to have for your family…’_

****

Dean trailed behind his dad up the stairs and to the door. John knocked once, no one answered for a full minute.

****

"Maybe we should have ca-..."

****

The door suddenly swung open revealing a disheveled man in a rumpled suit, kid really, around Dean's age, though the dark circles and red rims of his eyes made him look older. He blinked at them dazedly as though lost in a dream before his face hardened.

****

"John Winchester?"

****

"Castiel?" John's mouth twitched in an attempt to be polite, "you know my face?"

****

"Kelly had a picture on her phone…" Castiel muttered gruffly seeming distracted, stepping back warily from the door and gesturing John inside. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Dean.

****

"I'm Dean, one of John's... sons…" Dean explained awkwardly.

****

Castiel didn't say a word, just stared unnervingly at Dean for a long moment before gesturing him inside as well.

****

Dean offered a strained smile ducking quickly past him into the apartment’s cluttered living room Castiel quickly closing the door and following behind him.

****

Castiel shoved the mess of blankets and throw pillows to one side of the couch and pushed a duffle bag beneath the coffee table, he must have been staying with his sister in the days before the baby was born.

****

"Sorry, we just got back a few hours ago, I haven't gotten a chance to… clean up yet," Castiel muttered voice hoarse, "I think Ke-" his voice shook and he grimaced like he was dangerously close to tears, "my sister has... tea?"

****

"We're fine," John answered for both of them taking a seat on the cleared sofa Dean close behind.

****

Dean spotted what must have been a family photo perched on the side table and picked it up for a closer inspection. An unassuming mother and father, a dark-haired pre-teen boy with a slightly crooked smile that looked a lot like Castiel, and… that must be her, Kelly.

****

The back of Dean’s neck seemed to prickle and he looked up. Castiel was glaring at him still holding a pillow with a scowl on his face like Dean had just plundered his sister's underwear drawer. Dean quickly and discreetly set the frame aside.

****

_Sheesh, dude…_

****

There was a long awkward pause before anyone spoke.

****

"So… what happened…" John finally asked.

****

Castiel stared down playing with the throw pillow still in his hands before settling in the armchair opposite the couch, "S-she…" he had to pause swallowing shakily, "a few days ago Kelly went in for a routine prenatal exam, and… her blood pressure was high so they… they ran some tests and thought she might have pre-eclampsia."

****

Dean had no idea what that meant but nodded.

****

"So… the doctor's decided it would be best for her… and the baby if they delivered early by… by C-section…but..."

****

Castiel had to stop and take another heavy breath, like his sister's death was a physical weight pressing down on his chest.

****

"The doctor said it was a freak surgery complication, that they couldn't have done anything differently," Castiel’s face screwed up bitterly in a wry smile, "they said there was an embolism that traveled to her heart and when it stopped… and there was nothing they could do…"

****

There was another pregnant pause.

****

"But the baby it’s…" John asked carefully.

****

"Fine, just fine…" Castiel sniffed and rubbed away the tears pooling in his eyes surreptitiously, straightening up, composing himself. 

****

"Great actually… they were a little worried because they had to perform the C-section a few weeks early… and… pre-eclampsia can affect the size and health of the baby but…" he smiled softly, fondly, "the doctor said everything was just fine, surprisingly big and strong for the circumstances.

****

There was another long pause before John asked what was on everyone's mind.

****

"And… Kelly was sure the baby was mine?"

****

Castiel's eyes snapped up, "my sister didn't make a point of sleeping with random men to scam them if that's what you mean."

****

"Hey hey dude chill, no one's saying that," Dean held up his hands defensively, feeling a pang of annoyance.

****

"It's just…" John cut in, "why didn't she call or something, try to get in contact with me, why are we only learning this now, why didn't she tell me she was pregnant?"

****

Castiel's mouth twitched into an unpleasant little snarl, "you mean like how you didn't feel like telling her you were married."

****

You could hear a pin drop.

****

"I…" John looked pained guiltier than Dean had ever seen him, literally wringing his hands in his lap, "Honestly, we were both drunk, I barely remember what we talked about but I'm pretty sure I wasn't trying to hide anything from her…”

****

Castiel made an ugly bitter noise getting up and beginning to pace back and forth, "and I'm sure that's the sign of a great father…"

****

Dean's chest burned with anger, "what did you just…"

****

"She did go to see you once," Castiel cut him off seeming to stare down John, "apparently in that conversation, you don’t remember you told her about your shop, she looked it up online and from there found your address… but when she knocked on the door… and your son answered, told her only his mother, your wife was home?" Castiel put extra accusatory weight on the word ‘ _wife_ ’.

****

John said nothing.

****

"She decided not to bother you… decided it would be better if she just raised her baby alone. She didn't want to feel responsible for screwing up your marriage, even though I told her that wasn't her fault…"

****

John continued to say nothing face darkening.

****

Castiel continued, "and who was I to argue with her decision, maybe she was right, I mean you can't exactly know the character of a drunk man in a bar who cheats on his wife while across the country…"

****

John finally spoke eyes flashing, sounding irate, "Yeah, I totally came in that bar with the intention of cheating on my wife, and I must have lied to her about being married so she’d agree to have sex with me. If that's really what you think, then why call now, why call at all?"

****

"I don't know!" Castiel burst out pausing in his pacing, "I wasn’t thinking straight, my sister is dead, I thought maybe you should know, I…"

****

A soft sound broke off the argument, echoing through what looked like a pastel blue walkie talkie beside the couch. The sound grew to a soft mewling bawl. An infant crying.

****

Castiel sighed looking exhausted rubbing at his face and walking around the couch, muttering self deprecatingly to himself about being too loud and heading into what Dean assumed was Kelly’s bedroom.

****

Dean and John sat wordlessly, listening to the soft sobbing of the infant over the baby monitor and the slightly anxious hushing of Castiel.

****

“I know, I know, you’re okay I promise, please go back to sleep... “

****

The baby’s cries seemed to grow louder and Castiel emerged from the room holding a small bundle of blankets.

****

Both Winchester’s straightened awkwardly.

****

Castiel looked sheepish and exhausted cradling and gently rocking the weeping buddle in his arms.

****

“I… I’m sorry I just got him to sleep when you arrived, I… we were driving around the neighborhood,” Castiel stifled a yawn.

****

“He?” John said cautiously getting up.

****

Castiel nodded not looking up, “yeah... a boy…” he said absentmindedly, “I can’t get him to go to sleep when he’s not in the car.”

****

John slowly approached Castiel, like he was coming up beside a wounded animal. Dean found himself curiously following.

****

The infant was smaller than he expected, tiny face screwed up with tears a soft tuft of sandy blonde hair peeking out of the green froggy blanket he was wrapped in.

“Sammy was the same way,” John said, a soft wistful smile touching his face as he looked down at the tiny boy, the only positive emotion Dean had seen in him since the phone call, “baby swings sometimes help…”

****

Castiel stepped back from them a little wary holding the baby protectively to his chest. John raised his hands in mock surrender.

****

“I’m not going to do anything jeez… It’s just… I’ve raised two kids I could help…”

****

Castiel relaxed a little but still looked wary, the baby’s crying began to subside into soft hiccuping as he continued rocking.

****

“I’m… we’re okay… I- I’ve read some books…” the man mumbled sounding unsure as the blond infant finally seemed to settle tiny pink mouth opening in a yawn.

****

Castiel settled heavily in the armchair.

****

“Did Kelly get the chance to… What’s his name?” John asked carefully.

****

“She named him after our father,” Castiel didn’t look up from the tiny face now staring quizzically up at him, “Jack… his name is Jack….”

  


**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

****

**April 22nd, 2017**

  


Jack was not feeling very well.

****

He couldn’t recall much of what happened last night, or even this morning if he was being honest. Everything turned blurred and heavy after he started getting dizzy washing his face in the diner bathroom the day before.

****

He remembered not being able to slip the groggy run-down feeling he got from the eight-hour car ride to Lawrence.

****

He remembered the yelling, visiting John in the graveyard, the anxiety of being in a place he wasn’t wanted making him want to crawl into a freshly backhoed hole in the ground himself.

****

He remembered the exhausted feeling he’d been fighting only getting worse along with the scratching ache in his chest after his nap in the hotel room; feeling lightheaded and on edge, like he couldn’t quite get his bearings on the world around him…

****

Then… they’d gone for dinner. 

****

He remembered sometime after he’d gone to the restroom waking with his arm and head aching, feeling far away and so so tired, like a thick dark blanket was drawn over his brain, and he remembered… Cas, hearing his voice, seeing his face in moments of lucidity and feeling safe. 

****

And now that he was really truly awake for the first time in what felt like days Cas was off somewhere else, leaving him alone in an alien environment, tubes and needles stuck everywhere they didn’t belong. 

****

He knew it wasn’t fair or kind, he knew it didn’t even make logical sense for him to be mad about it… But, Jack couldn’t convince the nervous lonely part of his mind that resented Cas for leaving of that.

****

Sam was there, hovering nearby, trying hard to fill in his uncle’s shoes, and Jack appreciated him for staying but… It wasn’t the same.

****

He seemed like a nice person, he felt it when he’d stayed with him when the doctor was prodding him earlier. He’d thought he saw it in the goofy little bear he’d brought.

****

_‘Then again Castiel was always saying he needed to be a better judge of character. Though he may have just been referring to the fact that Jack was friends with someone he caught smoking weed behind the high school’s language arts building.’_

****

But...

****

Being around Sam was too confusing. There was too much thinking about what the man expected of him. Jack couldn’t connect the man who’d barely said a word to him in the graveyard with the man who held his hand when he was being childish and fearful; he was too tired and too busy anxiously trying to get a grip on everything else going on to worry about that. 

****

If he was being honest, Jack preferred unconsciousness.

****

The wrist Castiel had explained was sprained and had a small fracture in it before he left had swollen up to nearly twice its normal size and without a cast Jack couldn’t seem to keep it still enough to stop random jolts of pain from jolting up his arm.

****

The rest of Jack’s body was almost worse.

****

His head kept throbbing like some asshole had decided to bash him in the head with a ceramic sink.

****

_‘Which much to chagrin he learned wasn’t too far from the truth, the asshole in question being his brain doing its best impression of being tased.’_

****

They’d finally given him a few Tylenol about an hour after Doctor Hannah had stuck a needle in his back.

****

_‘A memory Jack tried desperately to forget despite the uncomfortable itching of the receding anesthetic in his back’_

****

A big man with a beard and kind eyes had come in with a kit of vials and a handful of white sterile sachets. Jack was starting to loathe the sight of white plastic. 

****

_‘more tests_ ’

****

The man introduced himself to Jack with an amused smile and southern drawl.

****

“Hi, I’m nurse Benny… the vampire.”

****

Jack blinked owlishly at him head tilting and even Sam looked up bemused.

****

Nurse Benny chuckled, “that’s what you called me last night when I came to draw your blood. You were with an older man, your dad?”

****

Jack’s face turned pink and he felt his throat and eyes burn with homesickness at the mention of his uncle’s name. He had absolutely no memory of the event.

****

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled woefully.

****

The man's mouth opened for a moment like he wanted to suck the words back in instead of blood and awkwardly patted his arm. “That’s okay bud, I might have to stick to that nickname now, it kinda fits.”

****

He let the man take more of his blood too tired for small talk or fear after that, grateful that he was far more gentle than his size would suggest..

****

Jack had tried to get some rest after the nurse left but at this point it felt like a lost cause. He was doomed to uncomfortably sit and wait for Castiel to return or for the next invasive and terrifying test; whichever came first.

****

The Tylenol he was given did a little to ease the ache in his head and arm but it did nothing at all for the discomfort in his chest, and the ache in his abdomen just seemed to get worse in spite of it. 

****

He’d never felt anything like it before.

****

He’d been able to ignore it before when it was just a dull ache at the bottom of his rib cage that really only spiked with a particularly violent bout of coughing. He thought it was _from_ all the coughing at first…

****

But it only got worse, the pain had wrapped itself all the way around to his back and was only growing; aching like the aftermath of a fight where someone held him down while he was punched repeatedly, like the worst stomach ache Jack had ever had.

****

It made Jack not want to move, not want to breathe in too deeply, it sapped all the energy out of him.

The pain didn't exactly make him nauseous but it did walk the fine line of making him not want to put anything into his body. Adding to tthe gross cloying feeling of malaise, he’d drank the cup of apple juice that was on his lunch tray just to keep Sam from bugging him about the rest of the meal being left uneaten. 

****

Worst of all though… the pain wouldn't let him sleep. There was no way to pass the time that didn’t involve sitting in his uncomfortable body trying not to think too hard about everything the last twenty-four hours brought. Not how his body seemed to be betraying him in new terrifying ways every few hours. Not how Castiel was off somewhere else with his angry older brother who hated him when he really wanted him. Not how doctors and nurses kept coming in and poking and prodding and touching him, not how he couldn’t do anything to stop them because they were just trying to help him.

****

He hated thinking about it. 

****

It made his chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with the itching tight heaviness there that made him keep coughing.

****

He’d watched a few minutes of cartoons and cop drama’s on the little old TV hanging in the far corner of the room, but staring at the tiny pictures just seemed to bring his headache back into closer focus.

****

He thought about starting a conversation with Sam but he didn’t have the energy and couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t know anything about Sam’s life and he couldn’t even talk about the weather because the only window to the outside in the little white world of his hospital room looked out onto the side of another building.

****

Jack finally started reading everything his eyes could reach from the safety of his static position leaning against his pillows out of the sheer need for a distraction. Like the embarrassing giraffe printed hospital wristband, they used in the pediatrics ward…

****

_Jack H. Winchester/Kline_ **_-_ ** _856-35223_

 **_Dob -_ ** _05/18/00_

 **_Admit. -_ ** _4/22/17_

 **_Doctor -_ ** _H. Hannah_

****

He’d read all the tiny label’s on the bed controls, could name the brands on the various pieces of medical equipment in the room, felt the tiny letters and numbers lasered into the itchy tube feeding oxygen into his nose. He even read the labels of the various bags of medication the doctors had slowly dripping into his veins.

****

It wasn’t as if the labels meant anything to him. He knew what saline was from health class but the label of other little yellow tinged bag was a mystery of nonsense letters. He didn’t even have his phone to look it up.

****

Now there was an act of great Jackness, getting himself grounded right before a long trip. Thank god he had been tired enough to sleep for most of the drive from Indiana to Kansas.

****

Something about the fact that no one back home knew what had happened to him made Jack feel faintly unnerved and lonely. Clarke and Maggie probably just thought Jack was still grounded and Castiel was being particularly vigilant in keeping all electronics out of his reach in the meantime.

****

They’d be confused Monday morning when Jack didn’t show up for class.

****

_‘If anyone even notices you’re gone.’_

****

Jack knew if he pleaded his case, explained why he wanted his phone for just a few minutes his uncle would probably cave and let him send his friends a message… but… he couldn’t. 

****

It was his fault he didn’t have his phone and couldn’t text them, what he’d done in Mr. Shurley’s class was so ungodly stupid, he already knew the man didn’t like him and then he’d…

****

“Jack please, just tell me what happened…” Castiel had pleaded exasperated and confused that day in the highschool’s office. 

****

Jack had never had any kind of academic probation before and he wasn’t about to explain what happened this time. He knew what would happen, he knew how his uncle would react, it was such a stupid pathetic thing to do and he couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment and sadness he knew he’d see on Castiel’s face. Cas had had no choice but to ground him…

****

Jack’s hands tightened around the blanket in his lap. He heard Sam’s muffled voice after a long moment and blinked up owlishly.

****

“Hmm?”

****

“I said do you need anything?” Sam asked hesitantly still hovering above the keyboard of his laptop.

****

_‘Cas…’_

****

Jack shook his head reflexively and smiled back politely, “I’m okay…”

****

Sam seemed to like asking questions like that, his large spidery hands kneading into one another with nervousness. Jack wasn’t entirely sure why Sam asked, probably to be polite maybe because like Jack he felt like he was supposed to do something in this situation.

****

After the evening before though Jack felt… hesitant to respond. 

****

Still… at least he was trying. 

****

“Th-thank you…” Jack mumbled, coughing to try and clear his chest for the tenth time so far that hour.

****

It was Sam’s turn to act incredibly awkward, “hmm?”

****

“For earlier?” Jack said voice lilting without his permission into a question. 

****

Sam blinked the nervous look on his face breaking for a moment into a genuine smile, “don’t sweat it…”

****

The moment was left to hang and grow stale in the air neither of them knowing what to say beyond that.

****

Sam’s phone rang and he fumbled to grab it, blinking at the text “your uncle says they’ll be back in ten minutes.”

****

_‘Thank god…’_

****

\----

****

It was actually only eight minutes before the friendly Doctor Hannah entered with a slight smile on her face.

****

“Look who I found in the lobby.”

****

Castiel peeked out from behind her looking a little sheepish but relieved. Jack felt like a ten-pound weight was lifted off his chest.

****

“Cas!” Jack couldn’t help smiling and leaning towards him on his side wincing as a throb of pain echoed the movement through his belly, and the itch in his throat caused by speaking loudly after a few hours of saying less than ten words caused a short bout of deep-chested coughs.

****

His uncle smiled back and came over to hug him gentler than his usual bear hugs, careful of the various tubes and wires sticking out of Jack.

****

He heard the doctor chuckle from behind him and another voice behind her, “Jeez, if this is you two after being apart a few hours I’d hate to see you after a day.”

****

Cas sent Dean a dirty look and Jack stiffened a little but Dean made no other comment just wandered to sit in his same seat as earlier that day and quickly engrossing himself in something on his phone.

****

“Was everything alright while I was gone?” Castiel sat on the edge of Jack’s bed addressing the doctor but looking Jack in the eye as he ruffled his dirty blonde hair.

****

Jack felt immediately anxious looking away in embarrassment happy the doctor was answering instead of him.

****

“We did a lumbar puncture about an hour ago and you…” she aimed the end of her sentence at Jack, “still need to be lying down.” 

****

Jack gave her a tiny guilty smile leaning back against his pillows.

****

“Lumbar puncture?” Cas searched Jack’s face worriedly, “I… we talked about that but I was under the impression I’d be here when you did it.”

****

“I’m f-fine,” Jack reassured him raspily hacking into the back of his hand, the flash of energy Cas’s return brought was beginning to wane as Jack’s head and back throbbed at him, “Sam… helped…”

****

Cas seemed surprised turning to look at the tall man, “Thank... you?” Castiel said still teetering on the edge of Jack’s bed.

****

Sam just smiled sheepishly up from his laptop.

****

Doctor Hannah said sounding honestly apologetic when she explained, “We had to go ahead and finish the tests this afternoon if we want to have results by tomorrow morning.”

****

“Tomorrow?” Jack sighed, he wasn’t really expecting to be able to leave the hospital that night but hearing it confirmed…

****

“I’m sorry Jack but it looks like you’ll be staying with us a while longer,” the doctor picked up his chart and began scanning it.

****

“What about the… the lung tests from earlier? Do we know anything from those yet?” Castiel asked hopefully.

****

Jack swallowed reflexively at the memory of having the bronchoscopy camera down his throat, even with the numbing spray they gave him it still made him want to gag.

****

“Well, we didn’t find any active bleeding in his lungs…” Jack could feel the but coming, “but there is still a good bit of inflammation and some fluid in his lungs.” 

****

“What does that mean?” Sam said unexpectedly, looking concerned.

****

“The test was… inconclusive,” Doctor Hanah said cagily, “There is a small likelihood the bleeding came from inside the lungs and it has since stopped, but the greater likelihood is that Jack is developing pneumonia as a result of aspirating blood during the seizure…”

****

Castiel didn’t seem to like the sound of that, “so… so pneumonia would be the more positive outcome in this situation?”

****

Doctor Hannah smiled diplomatically, “we’ll know more when the tests come back of the fluid in his chest if he contracted an opportunistic infection. In the meantime, we’re keeping him on supplemental oxygen and we started him on a course of antibiotics, to try and clear things up before it can get worse.”

****

_“So that’s what the little yellowish bag of fluids was…”_

****

Castiel sighed but seemed to relax a little.

****

“What about that thing that was worrying you earlier?” Sam’s voice piped up.

****

_‘Damn…’_

****

“Thing? Wh-what thing?” Castiel said anxiously, voice tightening, scrutinizing Jack worriedly.

Jack blushed and he just mumbled, “it’s just a stupid stomachache…”

****

He fought the urge to give Sam an iritable look, he knew it was stupid perhaps even dangerous but some part of him was still frustrated with the man for saying anything, that cried it would just make him have to stay here longer.

****

It was the same part of his brain that told him to keep his mouth shut to not say a word even as the pain in his stomach continued to descend and intensify in strange terrifying new ways. He knew it would be best for him if he explained everything as soon as he felt it but…

****

It was like talking about it made it real, made him have to admit to himself that something was very wrong.

****

_“I just want to go home…”_

****

The doctor paused for a moment her forehead wrinkling looking cagey, “Jack is having some abdominal pain I’m concerned about the location of, it could be something or it could be nothing so I ordered a few extra tests on the blood we took… But, I don’t want you to panic…”

****

Jack stared down at his hands fidgeting trying to disperse some of the anxious energy building up in his fingertips, not looking at his uncle.

****

“There was one thing we did notice when we ran one of our more immediate tests on Jack’s recent blood samples…” Her words seemed to lighten a little, and Jack peeked curiously back up at her.

****

“Your blood sugar is dropping…”

****

_‘Oh…’_

****

Jack hunched a little at that but continued to say nothing.

****

“You still haven’t eaten anything?” Castiel’s blue eyes tightened in concern, bordering on disappointment as got up and looked under the lid of the tray still perched on the bed table. “Jack, you barely had anything yesterday and you didn’t have any of the breakfast the nurse brought you this morning…” 

****

Jack just shrugged and huffed exasperated, he didn’t want anything, his stomach _physically_ hurt and didn’t seem to be getting any better. The idea of eating something felt… wrong. Even the juice he’d forced himself to drink earlier didn’t seem to want to sit properly, like he’d swallowed pins instead of a sugary fruit beverage.

****

“I’m not hungry…” he said simply.

****

Castiel sighed moving to sit in a chair beside the bed the doctor gave him a sympathetic grimace.

****

“Be that as it may we need you to try, I know being in the hospital probably doesn’t exactly... inspire your appetite but you need your strength to get better…”

****

Jack still said nothing rolling onto his side away from her.

****

“Are you nauseous?” the doctor asked gently.

****

_‘Not exactly…’_

****

“No…” Jack muttered curling up defensively.

****

The doctor sighed and turned toward Cas, “I’ll have an orderly bring in something new that hasn’t been sitting out for him alright?”

****

A tense silence followed the doctor’s departure. Jack could feel Castiel’s worried eyes on him and couldn't bring himself to look back.

****

It was so quiet a shuffling from Dean’s chair made Jack jump.

****

“I uh… I’m probably going to leave soon, I have an engine rebuild I promised to have done by tomorrow…” Dean said slowly sounding less self-assured than the Dean Jack had heard ranting the day before as he cautiously got up from his chair, “Unless that nervous history kid still need us for something?”

****

Castiel’s anxious glaring finally left Jack and he looked to Dean brow wrinkled in thought, “I don’t think so… But, it probably would have been a good idea to ask the doctor before she left…”

****

Dean gave a frustrated huff but sat back in his uncomfortable-looking waiting chair without further protest arms crossing over his plaid chest.

****

Cas’s eyes went back to Jack who quickly looked out the window continuing to play keep-away with his line of sight. He heard Cas sigh, resigned to stop his badgering for the moment.

****

“Mrs. Harvelle told me to tell you she hopes you feel better soon…” Castiel said softly.

****

Jack, didn’t really want to think about school right now, he wanted to avoid thinking about anything that made his stomach twist with anxiety - _it already hurt enough without it_ \- but he liked the nice assistant principal and was tricked into looking up.

****

“It will take a lot longer for you to heal and get back if you don’t eat Jack…” Castiel said in his ‘worried guardian’ voice.

****

Jack’s mouth twisted into a frustrated pout, “You don’t know that… for all you know that could make things worse…”

****

At the very least it would _feel worse_ Jack was fairly certain.

****

“Is that what you’re afraid of? Why you’re not eating?” Castiel tried.

****

Jack coughed blushing then glared at him, “No…”

****

Castiel looked at him expectantly for elaboration, Jack pinched the edge of his blanket awkwardly with his braced hand and drew it belligerently over his head.

****

Jack heard a muffled laugh badly disguised behind a cough that definitely didn’t come from his uncle. 

****

Jack didn’t really care he was just happy to be left alone, he was glad his uncle was back, but with his head aching the way it was he would much rather Cas remain a presence and not a voice.

****

There were far too many people in his room now anyway and he was becoming abundantly aware of how embarrassing Cas could be.

****

_‘Jack’s distinct lack of pants wasn’t particularly helping either.’_

****

Jack finally seemed to find a somewhat comfortable position that wasn’t pressing on the sore part of his back or stomach and was almost in a doze when he heard the rustle and clinking of an orderly entering. He tried to ignore it but Cas pulled the blanket off his head.

****

“They brought you some new food… it looks good,” Cas tried to tempt him.

****

Jack pulled a face, he highly doubted that, but reached out and let Cas pull him into a seated position anyway.

****

His head swam and a jolt of pain shot through his gut. He bit back a pained gasp. Castiel watched him worriedly rubbing his back.

****

Jack closed his eyes and breathed heavily as the pain faded and the world stopped tilting, he quickly pushed away the panic rising in his chest, what the hell was happening to him?

****

The one time he’d gotten out of bed that day in order to use the bathroom and brush his teeth he’d had to (much to his embarrassment) have a nurse help him because black dots kept swimming over his vision. And he couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that something was very wrong.

****

_‘He really didn’t feel right…’_

****

The thought made his stomach churn, the smell of whatever savory nonsense Castiel had uncovered really wasn’t helping.

****

“I’m not hungry…” Jack insisted crossing his arms to stop their fearful shaking and blinking back tears.

****

Cas sighed, “Jack, you heard Dr. Hannah… please just try something.”

****

Jack spared the tray a glance a little embarrassed to see what was probably a “children’s option” for the pediatric ward.

****

_‘Probably because you’re being a fussy baby about the food…’_

****

Even the offering of very innocuous dinosaur-shaped nuggets, sweet corn, and strawberry yogurt couldn’t entice him.

****

“I… I don’t want any of this…” Jack muttered eyes stinging, feeling like a petulant child, both because of his refusal to do what was asked and because even a whiff of the chicken was making him feel like a liar about the state of his now increasingly rocky stomach.

****

“Jack…” Castiel looked exasperated barely hiding honest distress and confusion, Jack wasn’t usually like this, “please talk to me.”

****

“I…” Jack’s eyes began to tear up in earnest, he didn’t know what he was holding him back, what was keeping him from telling him how terrible he was feeling.

****

Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be any more vulnerable than he had to be in front of Sam and Dean, maybe he didn’t want to make Castiel any more scared than he already was. More likely though it was the tang of acid rising in the back of his throat the next time he inhaled the smell of food that kept him from wanting to open his mouth.

****

“I don’t…” Jack’s voice shook, he swallowed feeling his back break out in cold sweat, “I don’t feel so good…” 

****

Castiel’s eyes widened, he’d been in the role of a parent long enough to know what that meant.

  
He began fumbling around pulling out the drawers of the side table muttering panicked, “hold on Jack just hold on…” he had the presence of mind to push away the rolling bed table with the offensive food.

****

Jack’s stomach lurched painfully and he clapped a hand over his mouth with a gag, the pulse ox popping off his finger in his haste the machine beside the bed immediately beginning to beep dramatically.

****

_‘No no no…’_ Jack shook mortified.

****

“What’s going on?” Sam’s eyes met Jack’s panicked ones for a split second before he joined the kerfuffle. Sam almost tripping over Dean’s legs in his haste to help. Jack could barely hear anything over the loud throb of his own heartbeat...

****

“Where’s the thing?” the bed shook.

****

“What thing?” Castiel’s chair squeaked.

****

“The little weird bean-shaped thing from earlier for the blood!”

****

“What!?”

****

Jack made a hideous sound as he swallowed back another retch doubling up, it felt like a stab in his gut.

****

Sam made a split second inspired decision reaching over the bed and grabbing the lid of the food tray flipping it upside down and shoving it under Jack’s chin.

“Here, here!”

****

Jack had no time to protest as his stomach decided it was time to stop fucking around and clenched violently, he threw up what little juice and bile was in his stomach clutching the lid like a lifeline.

****

“Fuck…!” there was a yelp and a thud as a startled Dean rose and tripped, foot catching on the leg of his chair in the crowded hospital room.

****

Jack coughed and wiped his mouth shakily with the back of his hand when it was over, wanting to sink back and disappear into his mattress as the machine by his bed continued to shriek.

****

Right about then the door suddenly opened and no less than three concerned nurses and the doctor stared into the room in confusion.

****

Dean blinked disheveled up from the floor where he’d fallen.

****

Sam stood like a deer in the headlights still holding on to the contaminated vomit lid. 

****

Jack breathed heavily, trying to control his shaking nauseous body. He didn’t think he’d mind dropping dead at the moment.

****

Castiel addressed the group from where he stood awkwardly beside the bed, “I um… I don’t think Jack is hungry...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Jack sleeps best after being driven around as a baby because in canon the first time Jack slept (I'm not counting being knocked unconscious with a taser) was in the back of the Impala.
> 
> I absolutely love comments and respond to them so if you have any questions or want to tell me what you liked or didn't I'd really really appreciate it. Just hearing what part hit you in the best way does so much for my will to write.


	6. Sock puppets, stomachaches, and what you really learn in college

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a very strange nurse, talk about teen drug use and the plot thickens.
> 
> TW: Conversations about recreational drugs, questions about suicidal intentions, and brief mention of throwing up

Sam and Dean both decided to give the Kline’s a little space after after the incident with Jack’s lunch tray. Ironically both brothers using the excuse that they hadn’t had anything to eat since they arrived early that morning. 

****

Jack seemed on the verge of mortified tears afterward and for selfish reasons or not neither wanted to be the one to push him over the edge.

****

The kid was already embarrassed enough.

****

The doctor had told the brothers (much to Dean’s chagrin) that at least one of them should come back in later that evening as they had a few more background questions for all of them once Jack had a chance to rest.

****

There was only so much the doctor was willing to do when they still didn’t know what was causing Jack’s symptoms but when Jack’s nausea refused to fade and several more bouts dry heaving literally drove Jack to tears they finally gave him anti-nausea drugs that had the added benefit of finally putting him back to sleep.

****

Getting a few hours of rest (plus something new the doctor gave him via IV to help with the fact he hadn’t eaten for a day and a half) seemed to perk Jack up a bit. At the very least Jack seemed a lot more calm when he woke up around three hours later.

****

Though, that could have also been the low dose of narcotic painkillers doctor Hannah also decided to give despite the risks when Jack’s stomach pain was bad enough to cause his heart rate to skyrocket.

****

It wasn’t enough narcotics to make Jack start accusing innocent staff members of being out to suck his blood again, but it was enough to render him quiet and subdued… and not at all like the Jack Castiel knew.

****

_‘He could only watch and try to comfort Jack as he got sick and then hugged his stomach, literally crying with the pain the action caused him…’_

****

A quiet Jack was better than a sobbing Jack, but it still terrified Cas.

****

It threw him back to sixteen years previously when Jack was first born, made him feel like he was failing Kelly all over again…

****

He remembered when Jack was four and a half and afraid of long clawed demons under his bed. ( _strangely specific child that he was_ ) Then Castiel could consol him and promise to protect him from any monsters . 

****

When Jack was seven and John died and Jack tried to run away from home, ( _only getting so far as the neighbor down the street who lured him in with cookies and called Castiel_ ) he’d been able to reassure the traumatized boy that his parents and the people around him didn’t die because he was close to them. 

****

_“...you’re not cursed Jack, I promise… and I’m not planning on leaving you alone any time soon.”_

****

But this…

****

Castiel couldn’t promise everything would be okay, he didn’t know how to fix this, he didn’t even know what _this_ was…

****

Every little twitch Jack gave in his sleep, every harsh intake of breath was like an electric jolt to Cas’s heart, terrifying him that Jack would start seizing again.

****

By the time that Jack was awake again and Cas was able to call the Winchester’s back in he was thirty-six hours without sleep and felt on the verge of a mental breakdown.

****

“Med student party here yet?” Cas heard the now unfortunately familiar voice of Dean Winchester over his shoulder.

****

“No…” Cas said dully, hand tightening over Jack’s as he broke into another fit of harsh wheezy coughs.

****

_‘The antibiotics either weren’t helping the pneumonia or were taking far too long to kick in for comfort.’_

****

“I...I don’t really feel up to p-party,” Jack muttered with a tiny wry smile.

****

“You feeling any better buddy?” Sam’s voice was a little more tolerable.

****

“They gave me more drugs?” Jack said bluntly, perhaps the amount of pain meds he was given was still enough to make the teenager a more aloof if not completely loopy.

****

As scared as Jack must be Cas didn’t have it in him for him to be upset with Jack being a little… high, as it were.

****

_‘Anything to keep away the horrible tears of pain.’_

“They’re waiting for me to let them know you’re here…” Cas explained quickly to the brothers reaching for the nurse call button and using the moment to compose himself.

****

“I thought we were done with all the questions?” Dean sighed pacing by the window like nervous rather unimpressive tomcat not looking at anyone.

****

“Well apparently they didn’t get what they needed last time.” Cas tried not to think that more questions meant the doctors were at a loss with what answers they did get.

****

“It probably had something to do with you ‘scaring the crap’ out of the person who was recording them…” Cas glared choosing to believe that instead.

****

Dean’s eyes narrowed for a moment and he opened his mouth as if to say something scathing but Sam surprised Castiel by speaking up.

****

“Well whatever the reason pointing fingers won’t help anyone,” Sam said taking Dean’s old spot by the far end of the bed. It seemed like while Sam was rendered relatively unable to function when it came to Jack that same reservations did not stand for confronting his argumentative older brother or Castiel.

****

“So how about this time we all sit down, and shut up, and get this over with and then neither of you will have to see each other again if you don’t want to…” Sam said with an air of aggressive calm, folded his hands in his lap.

****

Jack eyes seemed to dart between each one of them tense and nervous, clutching at the sheets without a word. 

****

Castiel felt a pang of guilt in his chest. 

****

He and Dean took their seats… quietly.

****

They sat awkwardly like two children who’d just been chewed out by the principal until the silence was broken by a knock on the door.

****

Well… a series of knocks… to the tune of… Yankee Doodle?

****

Jack’s eyes darted between his uncle and the door like he wasn’t sure if he actually heard what he thought he heard or if the drugs were just kicking in.

****

“Come in?” Castiel said hesitantly.

****

The door opened and in stepped not the nervous med student, but another more suspicious looking individual.

Another… nurse? 

****

“Hello,” said the strange skinny man in seemingly oversized giraffe print scrubs. He had a smile about as appropriate for the tense atmosphere as sunbather in a snowstorm, “My name is Garth but you can call me nurse Fitzgerald and I’m here to help Jack and you all with a patient history today.”

****

Dean shot Sam a confused look that was ignored.

****

“What happened to the other g-guy?” Jack hacked into the back of his hand, looking wary of having yet another stranger in his room.

****

"Well, Kevin was having a bit of a hard time, so the head nurse wanted someone with a bit more experience to finish it,” Nurse Fitz-… _Garth_ shrugged the left sleeve of his scrubs dangerously close to sliding off his narrow shoulder, “they send me in when things get a little hinky,"

****

"Hinky?" Castiel's eyebrows rose.

****

"Well I say hinky," Garth smiled, "I think it's a much nicer word than the one nurse Master's used... that I won't use in front of a child.

****

The child in the room looked mildly offended.

****

"Or what was written on the chart," he picked up Jack’s chart clipboard off the end of the bed and flicked it significantly, “which is… ''disorderly"."

****

Dean scoffed, "Please, we weren't "disorderly”,” he drew quotation marks in the air.

****

The strange skinny man just continued to smile shrugging, "okay well you made poor Kevin cry in the on-call room so I wouldn't exactly call that "functional behavior"."

****

Dean’s mouth opened looking defensive but for a second time the words were lost behind an interruption.

****

“Sorry…” Jack said quietly, clearing his throat, “they… they mean well… I think…”

****

“We should… probably apologize to this Kevin though…” Castiel said sheepishly.

****

“Probably…” Dean muttered noncommittally refusing to look at Castiel.

****

“What’s that?” Sam spoke up suddenly sounding confused, everyone turning to see at what he pointing at. 

****

I appeared to be a strange looking… sock with lips? hanging of Nurse Garth’s scrubs pocket.

****

“Oh him?” the nurse pulled the object out his pocket smiling at it fondly before slipping it over one hand, “This… is Mr. Fizzles.”

****

He opened and closed the sock puppet’s mouth in Jack’s general direction as the boy looked on warily pressed against his pillows.

****

“A lot of kids find a friend easier to talk to than a stranger, especially when in a big scary place like the hospital.”

****

He looked at Jack expectantly.

****

“I...I think I’ll pass…” the teenager said turning a little pink.

****

Garth seemed mildly disappointed but shrugged and surreptitiously tucked the sock back in his pocket picking back up the chart.

****

“Well Kevin’s handwriting started getting illegible at… drugs…” he looked up expectantly at Castiel’s affronted face.

****

“He had a tablet of ibuprofen about seven hours before the seizure and then a second four hours later, but no Jack does not do drugs,” Castiel said flatly.

****

“I think… he was asking Jack…” Sam said carefully watching Jack who was refusing to look back, scratching at the adhesive over the line in his arm.

****

“I don’t… do drugs…” Jack said quietly.

****

Castiel gave nurse Garth a satisfied “see” look.

****

“But there was… this one time,” Jack coughed sheepishly.

****

Everyone was suddenly staring at Jack who seemed to be trying to disappear into his hospital mattress.

****

“Jack…” Cas’s heart sunk more disappointed than angry, he didn’t have a chance to ask why before Jack cut him off seeming desperate to explain.

****

“It… it was just one time… Noah offered me a _hit?”_ his eyebrows drew together and he looked unsure at the terminology, “of a joint he had?”

****

Dean gave an impressive little huff earning him a dirty look from Cas.

****

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t go to college…” Dean shrugged, shooting Sam a knowing smile he refused to return.

****

“It was just the one time though!” Jack said quickly looking at Cas pleadingly, “It was really, really gross and… and I never did it again!”

****

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Castiel asked exasperated, trying not to show Sam or Dean how hurt he was. What made it worse was he knew how stereotypical it was for a parent to think their teenager would never lie to them. Half the parent teacher conferences he had to call at the high school were dealing with people under such delusions.

****

“I… I didn’t want to get Noah in trouble…” Jack mumbled biting his lip and refusing to look Cas in the eye.

****

“Noah?” Castiel mentally ran over his shortlist of acquaintances Jack talked about and came up empty. “Wait… Noah Ophis?” Castiel felt completely at a loss when Jack’s blush seemed to confirm it, “Jack… wasn’t Noah the one who locked you in the school gym’s weight room and then stuck gum in the lock so we had to call maintenance to disassemble the door to get you out?”

****

“It… was never confirmed…” Jack muttered turning brighter red glancing back between his older brothers as if expecting them to laugh.

****

“How long ago did you ‘get silly with Mary Jane’?” Garth broke in on the tense moment seeming unbothered.

****

Jack looked extremely confused for a long moment, “Six… months ago?”

****

Garth wrote that down, “well it’s probably not that then, the devil’s lettuce only lasts like… a few hours, unless you snort it that’s worse...” 

****

Castiel really did not believe that was an actual way people consumed marajauna… he had gone to college after all.

****

Cas suppressed the need to start in on a long speech about peer pressure, lying, and the dangers of underage recreational drug use (especially when you didn’t know the source), but now was not the time, not now with as Jack as sick as he was. He would be taking advantage of a secret Jack only willingly told because he was scared for his own safety, and Jack’s health might rely on him being honest with his doctors.

****

Though Cas was relieved when the next question was, just “Do you have any animal friends?”

****

_He felt his confidence as a surrogate parent had taken enough of a hit for the moment._

****

“Well… I have Felix… but I don’t know if he thinks of me as a friend, I’ve read their brains can’t really process that sort of thing?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.

****

Sam’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline.

****

Maybe the drugs had a stronger effect on Jack than Castiel first realized.

****

“What _is_ Felix?” Sam looked completely at a loss.

****

Jack blinked, “A corn snake,” he said like it should be obvious.

****

Dean seemed to recoil slightly and then snorted, a very, “of course I’m going to judge the character of a kid I don’t know based on the fact he keeps a snake…” noise.

****

That was a big mistake… Castiel knew Jack was fairly shy but he’d been on the wrong end of one of Jack’s, “I must defend the honor of snakes everywhere,” speeches before when the Jack was first trying to convince his uncle to let him keep Felix.

****

“Felix is really great!” he insisted, probably louder than he should have judging by the short fit of coughs that followed. He cleared his throat before croaking, “N-not only do corn snakes eat d-disease carrying pests, they're really gentle, and they’re easy to breed in captivity, and they’re from the US so they... they don’t c-contribute to the… the e-exotic pet trade…”

****

Castiel remembered vividly Jack showing up in his classroom clutching a shoe box the day before winter break, nervous but determined. He’d gone into a spiel about how a boy had brought the snake to the lunch room to show it off but the boy was planning to kill it at the end of the day with a rock because he thought it was ‘kinder’.

****

“He said he couldn’t get it to eat, but! he only tried one thing and... and you can’t let him do that, he doesn’t deserve that…”

****

He’d practically begged Castiel to let him keep the snake, “even if it was just for a little while,” and then spent the next week researching and trying to feed it different things, bringing everything from bags of frozen mice to eggs and minnow into the house before he’d had success.

****

Cas remembered the huge grin on Jack’s face when he finally succeeded heard him whisper, “see you’re going to be okay now,” into Felix’s enclosure when he thought his uncle wasn’t watching.

****

Jack dissolved into another fit of coughing near the end of his snake rant, doubling up as Castiel laid a worried hand on his shoulder.

****

“Fine fine kid jeez…” Dean raised his hands in mock surrender, looking mildly alarmed, “I believe you, don’t lose a lung over it…”

****

“Snakes are great you’re just a mean,” Jack muttered breathily with one laugh hacking cough, sinking wearily back in his bed. The short bout of passion seemed to have taken a lot out of him.

****

“I don’t really like snakes, I’m sure they’re great but the way they look at me makes me nervous y'know?” Nurse Garth Gave a shiver, no one knew what he meant. “Also they can carry salmonella…”

****

The nurse spent the next half hour asking more questions of various degrees of embarrassment. Each answer the brother’s gave grew increasingly bored and each answer Jack gave getting softer as he grew increasingly drowsy.

****

Any energy Jack gained by resting seemed to run out of him like water through a sieve and soon he had fallen back asleep. Castiel knew seizures could take a lot out of a person but this? This felt different. He breathed deeply to calm himself down, told himself he never finished nursing school, let alone medical school like the doctor’s taking care of Jack. 

****

_‘He was in good hands…’_

****

He carefully straightened Jack’s blankets, trying not to listen to the wheezy quality of Jack’s breathing even in sleep.

****

“Did you get all the answers you needed?” Castiel asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt and of the sleep the boy managed to get.

****

The nurse smiled looking a little too pleased with himself, “yup just about the entire thing, I don’t know what Kevin was upset about you all seem like very nice people.”

****

Dean looked up mildly guilt pulling his hand back from where he’d been trying to fish the sock puppet out of Garth’s pocket, while Sam hid his face in his hands. “Yeah… um… so it’s fine for us to take off now?”

****

_‘Of course…’_

****

Garth nodded satisfied, “yeah, visiting hours for everyone but parents are ending soon, and the kid looks like he’s had all the fun he can handle for today.”

****

Castiel just nodded in agreement trying not to seem to eager carefully fixing Jack’s mussed up hair, “I think he’s had enough of strangers for now…”

****

That was enough for Dean who left with one last indignant puff of air but Sam stayed back for a moment tettering as was his custom in the doorway.

****

“Call if something changes?” he asked, like he was half unsure he should say the words.

****

Cas offered a tight smile, “sure…”

****

\-------------------------

  


Sam and Dean left for their home and hotel respectively the nurse leaving soon after to give Castiel and more importantly Jack some time to rest.

****

The nurses mostly let Jack be through the evening only coming in once or twice to record his vitals and give him more of the drugs the doctor prescribed earlier, Jack thankfully remained asleep during the visits.

****

He seemed mostly stable much to Cas’s relief though that could have just been due to the pain and nausea meds masking the worst of his symptoms. It wasn’t until Jack reached a full twenty-four hours without another seizure that Castiel finally let himself relax.

****

It wasn’t until much later, half past midnight that the doctor came in again.

****

Castiel had finally fallen asleep in a recliner chair one of the nurses graciously brought in when they realized he was staying with Jack for another night.. 

****

_‘They’d explained it was standard practice for when a parent stayed with their child on the ward…’_

****

He’d been woken rather unceremonious by doctor Hannah pulling a cumbersome looking machine into Jack’s room.

****

“What’s… What’s going on?” he asked dumbly rubbing at his face, the confusion quickly turning to alarm when he saw the look on the doctor’s face. 

****

Her face was mostly calm, but her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth was pressed in a thin tense line.

****

“I… need you to wake up Jack…” she said something worrying in her calm voice Castiel couldn’t quite identify.

****

Castiel immediately began to panic head snapping up to the monitor of Jack’s vitals. Everything seemed the same, except the fever which had risen to an even hundred degrees.

****

“Is… What’s wrong?” He asked in as hushed a tone as he could manage.

****

The doctor gave him a reassuring smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

****

“I just need to check something…” she said unhelpfully.

****

Castiel tried to breathe evenly and remain calm as he gently shook Jack’s shoulder.

****

_‘What was so bad you’d wake a sick kid in the middle of the night?’_

****

He gently shook Jack’s shoulder, calling his name, Jack barely moved, his eyes twitched and he let out a soft cough.

****

Castiel frowned shaking his shoulder a little more forcefully eliciting an unhappy groan from Jack as he rolled away as far as the tubing on his face would allow him.

****

_‘At least it was confirmation he wasn’t comatose or something…’_

****

“The painkillers he’s on can have a sedative effect,” she frowned, “it’s always best to try to wake someone up naturally but I did bring something if that doesn’t work. 

****

She produced a set of keys from her pocket to unlock the set of rolling drawers the machine she brought was propped on top of.

****

“Wait,” Castiel quickly held up a hand, “there’s one thing I haven’t tried yet…” he leant down close to Jack’s ear, “Jack… come on you have to get up… we’re going to be late to school…”

****

Jack tensed up and groaned, “I… I don’t want to, I don’t feel good…” he grumbled face screwing up.

****

Cas huffed a sad laugh, gently ruffling his hair to keep him from falling back out, “I know Jack, but you still need to wake up.”

****

Jack finally blinked woefully up at him, “you said I didn’t have to go…” His croaked eyes wandered towards the window as he coughed to clear his throat, “it’s still dark out…” he muttered bewildered.

****

“I know, I know… you don’t have to go to school, you can go back to sleep... in a little bit?” Cas looked back toward the doctor who offered him another thin smile, neither confirming or denying.

****

“But doctor Hannah she needs to talk to us… for now, alright?” Castiel said still gently squeezing his shoulder...

****

Jack just blinked and nodded trustingly too tired to question it.

****

Doctor Hannah ducked down to his level whispering, “I’m going to turn on the lights now and I need you to roll on your side like before okay?”

****

Jack looked wary breath speeding up, “P-please don’t stick another needle in my back…”

****

“It’s okay Jack, I promise I’m not going to do that honey,” she said gently flipping on a switch and making everyone in the room wincing at the sudden brightness, “I just need to run an ultrasound on your back and abdomen…”

****

Jack looked even more confused, face morphing into mildly suspicion, “But… I can’t have babies?”

****

Doctor Hannah actually chucked, “No that’s not all we use ultrasound for, and that’s not what I’m looking for…”

****

“What are you looking for?” Castiel couldn’t hold himself back from asking, fidgeting in the recliner.

****

The doctor’s face dropped a little before she could stop it, “I’ll let you know if I see it, I… I don’t want to alarm you,” 

****

Her eyes drifted back to Jack with an unspoken, _‘or him’_.

****

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed but he still did as he was told and the doctor guided him onto his side before pulling down the blanket to his waist and undoing the ties on the upper half of his hospital gown while he blushed pink.

****

When she carefully began to probed Jack’s back it became abundantly clear the medication didn’t completely numb his pain.

****

He barely held back a cry of pain between clenched teeth, reducing it to a strained groan, his whole body shaking.

****

Castiel reach for his hand which was clenched around the bed sheets. “It’s okay Jack… I’m here.”

****

“Th-that… that really hurts,” Jack mumbled tearfully.

****

“I know Jack I know…” the doctor said seemingly lost in thought 

doing her best to move quickly through prep procedures for the ultrasound. Applying a plastic cover over the wand and spreading clear gel on a portion of his back.

****

Jack looked like he was trying not to scream when the doctor finally pressed the ultrasound wand into his back, teeth gritted together heart rate spiking.

****

The doctor’s eyes were fixed on the ultrasound screen beside the bed looking grim and Castiel wished not for the first time that he’d finished his degree so he’d know what she saw.

****

_‘All he could do was hold Jack’s hand.’_

****

“Shit…” he barely heard the doctor mutter as she set aside the wand and gingerly wiped away the gel on Jack’s back. 

****

There were already already tears welling in Jack’s eyes when she had him turn back onto his back.

****

The doctor promised to be as quick and gentle as she could as she repeated the process with the upper part of Jack’s abdomen.

****

Jack was shaking and crying silently by the time it was over, and the doctor was if anything quieter.Terrifyingly lost in thought.

****

Castiel carefully helped him back into his gown, telling him softly that he did well and could go back to sleep soon.

****

Jack watched the doctor red eyed and wary gripping the blankets a little too tightly even as he wilted exhausted back against the bed.

****

The doctor waited until the teenager seemed to have calmed back down before speaking.

****

“Jack… I’m going to ask your uncle and you some questions and I need you to be as honest as possible, alright?”

****

The tone of doctor Hannah’s voice set off the already ringing alarm bells in Cas’s mind to a shrieking pitch.

****

Jack nodded cautiously, “O-okay…” he said shakily.

****

The doctor began pacing at the foot of his bed hands clasping anxiously at one another.

****

“You said Jack had a headache a few hours before he had the seizure at the restaurant and that you gave him ibuprofen for it. Are you sure it was ibuprofen and not aspirin?” 

****

Castiel blinked, “yes, I’m sure I know better than to give a child aspirin, and I even remember the brand I bought, it was Advil…”

****

“It’s was a blue... package,” Jack said after a moment coughing into his elbow, exhaustion, and illness fogging his brain.

****

The doctor nodded and resumed her pacing, “and… how much did you give him?” she asked seeming careful about her phrasing.

****

“A lower dose, one tablet… and then another four hours later…” Castiel said suspiciously, “what is this about?”

****

The doctor hesitated, “did you see Jack take them both times?”

****

There was a long pause as Jack looked increasingly upset, “wh-what are you tr-trying to say?”

****

“What are you suggesting?” Castiel knew full well what she was asking but he couldn’t believe he’d heard it.

****

“I…” she paused and sighed, “I have to ask it’s very important.”

****

Jack seemed to understand despite everything, “I...I wouldn’t, I couldn’t d-do that I…” his breathing sped up.

****

“The first thing Jack asked about when he woke up was school and needing to take care of his pet? Does that really strike you as someone who would try to… to…” Cas paused, “to _hurt_ themselves?”

****

“I… I was upset and sad after what happened but…” Jack’s forehead wrinkled again as his breathing grew more frantic and his heart rate rose with it, “I wouldn’t, I didn’t do that…” he muttered eyes pleading and filling back up with tears, “please believe me.” 

****

“I know Jack… I do believe you,” Castiel reassured him gently squeezing his shoulder.

****

A thought dawned on Cas and he reached for his coat still hanging off the back of his chair, “he really physically couldn’t…”

****

Castiel pulled a small half crushed blue box from the pocket of the coat, “I didn’t even buy a bottle of pills they didn’t have any in the hotel commissary they only had it in a box of packets and there were only four pills to start with…”

****

_‘The stupid box had cost a whole ten dollars regardless.’_

****

He handed it over for the doctor to see, “and there’s still two left…”

****

The doctor looked in the box then checked the date on the bottom, but instead of looking relieved like Cas expected…”

****

She just looked... frustrated?

****

“Alright… I’m sorry, we had to rule that out as a possibility…” she sighed.

****

The apology did nothing to placate Jack, who just stared at her distrustfully tears running silently down his cheeks hugging himself still breathing too fast.

****

Castiel tried to resist the anger and resentment building up in his own chest he knew the doctor was just doing her job, but it was late and the already ill and drug addled Jack was not tolerating being woken in the middle of the night to be painfully prodded, cross examined, and accused of hurting himself very well.

****

He placed a protective hopefully comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder, “couldn’t you have just tested for a possible overdose in the blood samples you took instead of coming in here past midnight and harassing him?”

****

“If the problem was being caused by taking too much ibuprofen it would be important to find out and treat as soon as possible.”

****

“W-why?” Jack mumbled hunching forward red-eyed and shaking his breath coming out in uncomfortably fast puffs, “what… what’s wrong with me?”

****

He looked how Castiel felt, on the verge of panic.

****

“Jack, it’s alright I need you to calm down…” the doctor said looking warily between him and the vitals reading on the monitor.

****

_‘That didn’t calm him down.’_

****

“You… you don’t know d-do you?” Jack sobbed continuing to hyperventilate, heart beating about a mile a minute on the monitors, “y-you don’t…” he coughed, the developing panic attack not helping his already labored breathing, coughing soon turning to wheezing.

****

Castiel’s mouth became a thin anxious line as he wrapped a supportive arm around his shoulders.

****

“Jack?” 

****

The doctor moved quickly back over to the locked set of drawers retrieving a vial and injecting something into Jack’s IV line, “it’s alright it’s okay… just try to breathe deeply Jack…”

****

Jack tried, leaning on his uncle tears running down his face even when his breathing slowed and he relaxed as whatever drug the doctor gave him took effect.

****

The doctor and Castiel gently helped him lean back into his pillows as his eyes blinked blearily, “it’s alright… just rest now… you’re alright…”

****

She didn’t look like even she believed what she was saying as he drifted quickly back into unconsciousness the rise and fall of his chest slowly evening back out.

****

Castiel felt as if a live wire was clenched between his teeth.

****

“What's happening to Jack?” he managed an impossibly calm tone.

****

The doctor sighed taking a moment to steal herself before answering. “Most of the tests we have back so far… they came back inconclusive… There was no sign of meningitis or encephalitis in his spinal fluid, no… conclusive signs of infection in his blood at all…”

****

“But,” Castiel said feeling miles away.

****

“But… between the blood taken when he was first admitted and a few hours ago, we’ve found a significant increase in his liver enzymes and protein levels and if… they don’t improve in the next few hours I want to look at transferring him to Kansas University hospital…”

****

Castiel felt like the ground was dropping from beneath him, “and… the pain, what you were testing for just now that was…”

****

The doctor paused for an even longer moment before answering, “Jack’s liver and kidneys… are showing signs of inflammation… and the blood tests results are signs they’re starting to lose function…”

****

_‘Failing… she meant they were beginning to fail’_

****

“And you don’t know why…” Castiel mumbled numbly.

****

The doctor said nothing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the stakes raise...
> 
> In canon Jack literally carried Felix around with him in his box when they went on the trip to Donatello's to keep an eye on him... and that was with most of his soul burned off.
> 
> And I kinda wanted to portray what Jack would have been like with Felix if not for losing most of his soul?


	7. Toddlers, tantrums, and a cartoon octopus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean broods petulantly, Castiel continues to scream internally, and Sam really hates Dora the Explorer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof sorry this chapter is about three weeks late it's been a nightmare of a month, a lot of really awful stuff happened in my personal life and I was sick to boot which didn't help anything. :P 
> 
> But here we go :)

**March 22, 2002**

****

Thirty-Nine days and counting. 

And Sam was counting.

****

Thirty-Nine days left until Sam turned eighteen, until  _ he _ instead of the courts could choose where he spent his days.

****

His mother and John’s divorce had been mostly cordiale. Mary hadn’t wanted to make things hard on her boys by drawing things out, she’d just wanted to move on, and John didn’t have the balls to fight her on that.

****

_ ‘Or maybe he just knew if he made Mary fight him, after what he did… he’d be the one to lose everything.’ _

****

Part of Sam wished she had taken John for all he was worth, he’d betrayed them all. If wasting years and years of their lives building a family meant nothing to him, maybe taking his money or his shop would have. 

****

At then at least Sam wouldn’t have to spend time at their old house, doing… this…

****

**I don’t get paid enough for this** , He texted Dean.

****

**Dad pays for babysitting? Shit wish I knew when you were a brat.**

****

Sam rolled his eyes, glancing over to make sure Jack was still preoccupied watching Dora and munching on goldfish or his fingers.

****

**It’s spring break and I’ve got like two months left of school, I should be out at the lake with friends or working on my senior paper.**

****

Dean seemed largely unsympathetic,  **Neerrrddd.**

****

Sam violently snapped his phone shut as if Dean could feel his irritation through the screen and tossed it aside on the couch cushion.

****

Sam wasn’t even supposed to be here, he was only staying with John this week because Mary had some special teacher’s training during the break.

****

He did not agree to babysit the… well, baby, willingly, but Missouri Mosley had gone on vacation with her son’s family and John had guilted him into it. 

****

John kept going on about how “he could stay home with Jack and not work all week, because shutting down a business was obviously better than leaving a toddler alone because his own brother refused to watch him.”

****

****-** **

_ ‘As if John could say shit about abandonment’ _

****-** **

Jack wasn’t his “ _ brother _ ” he was a baby, all twenty-two month olds did was eat, sleep, and chew on their hands. 

****

All Jack did was make the occasional not quite humming noise as he ate goldfish and mimick Dora’s “map!” a hundred times, interrupting Sam’s research.

****

****-** **

_ ‘John didn’t even have a computer with the internet or Encarta he had to do all his senior paper research with library books.’ _

****-** **

“Am, am am!” Jack babbled around his fingers.

****

Sam did his best to ignore him and read more about solar powered lights.

****

“Am! Am!” Jack insisted. Sam heard him get up and stagger away from the tv toward him. Sam felt two sticky hands on his knees and jumped looking around his book. Blue eyes looked up at him expectantly from a face covered with orange cracker crumbs. 

****

“What?” Sam huffed in irritation.

****

“Ora gone!” the baby guestured back to the tv looking alarmed.

****

“Then watch Oswald I’m busy…” Sam pulled his book back up and resumed reading.

****

He heard Jack’s footsteps prattle off again in the direction of the TV.

****

"Thirty-nine days…" Sam muttered to himself.

****

All was quiet for a few minutes except the noise of the overly condescending octopus on the TV.

****

Too quiet, there was no sound of goldfish munching or babbling Jack noises.

****

Sam looked up and with a jolt realized Jack's little plate of goldfish was abandoned in front of the TV.

****

"Jack?"

****

He dropped his book back onto the couch and looked around for where the toddler could have gotten off to.

****

He ended up almost tripping over the toddler when he stood up.

****

Jack had gotten into Sam's open backpack and gotten his tiny hands on one of the smaller library books, pulling it open and leaving orange crumbs on the now rumpled pages.

****

He quickly pulled the book away from Jack who just giggled. 

****

"What are you even doing," Sam sighed harassed dusting the book off and smoothing back out the pages.

****

"Am!" the toddler chortled.

****

Sam rolled his eyes sticking the book back in his bag and scooping Jack up, "okay, you know what, no more tv for you, you are just going to have to take a long nap until dad gets home."

****

“No!” Jack grumbled kicking at Sam's chest.

****

It actually kind of hurt, little kid shoes driven into his ribs without any regard for his own strength, making Sam cringe in annoyance and irritation.

****

"Stop it! Jeez…" Sam groaned holding him a little tighter before climbing the stairs, "do you want me to accidentally drop you?"

****

"Nooo!" Jack continued to complain, not listening.

****

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes carrying the toddler to his crib in Dean's old room.

****

Aside from a few scattered boxes filled with toys and diapers it still looked like Dean's room. Dean's old bed was pushed into the corner and any crap he hadn't taken when he moved out was just piled on top.

****

There was an orgy of evidence the room was never really meant to be a nursery, all the needed baby junk much like Jack himself just kind of shoved into their lives with little notice or time to prepare.

****

Almost as soon as Sam put Jack down and pulled up the side of the crib Jack was back on his feet tugging at the bars and looking at Sam like he’d just locked him in a cage.

****

"Nooo…" Jack cried attempting to wiggle away as Sam reached through the bars to remove his shoes.

****

"Yes," Sam insisted tossing the shoes in an open box and starting to walk away. Jack’s fussing just grew louder and by the time Sam was halfway down the stairs the toddler decided it was best to just start screaming.

****

Sam's frustration rose to a boiling point. This wasn't fair, none of this was fair. Sam had a life and college applications and finals to worry about, his dad had no right to force him to take care of problems that were his fault in the first place.

****

Sam huffed and trudged back upstairs.

****

The baby was still standing clutching the bars his face bright red and teary bottom lip sticking out.

****

"Why can't you just go to sleep?" Sam said exasperated pulling back down the crib bars to try and convince him to lay down.

****

But as soon as Sam got back near Jack he decided he no longer wanted to grab at his older brother and demand to be let out, he instead plopped down on his butt and scooted as far away from Sam as his crib would let him.

****

"No!" Jack pouted.

****

Sam rolled his eyes, "come on Jack it's nap time…"

****

"No! No Am!" Jack insisted kicking his blanket and glaring at Sam petulantly.

****

"Tell you what, one month and they’ll be no more ‘Am ever again." Sam spat frustration finally getting the better of him. "I'll leave stay with my Mom until I graduate and you'll never have to deal with mean old 'Am' ever again, how about that?"

****

He didn't know how much Jack understood of what he said, most likely it was just his tone, but the toddler went quiet after Sam’s outburst pouting and sniffling at him.

****

****-** **

_ 'Thirty-nine days' _

_ - _

****

Sam repeated the mantra over and over again to cover his guilt. ********  
  


-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

****

**April 23, 2017**

********  
  


Dean got an early start working in the garage, five-thirty in the morning wasn’t hard to manage when you’ve been up since three. 

****

He enjoyed the work, on the best days the cars and trucks he had up on the lift were an interesting puzzle to solve and even on the worst days the routine monotony of replacing brake pads and rotating tires was at least soothing.

****

Today the prospect of rebuilding an engine block was… exhausting.

****

Castiel was starting a pattern of dropping bombshells before the asscrack of dawn between his two am call the day before and his text of… basically, “they’re transferring Jack because his organs are frying” this morning.

****

Thankfully Dean had his own patterns to fall back on, he hoped carefully reassembling an engine block required just enough concentration to keep out the unwanted thoughts that kept him from falling back to sleep.

****

****-** **

_ ‘Fuck, the kid just couldn’t catch a break could he?’ _

****-** **

He hoped the doctors figured out whatever the hell was going on with Jack he really did, kids… didn’t deserve this kind of shit. But getting involved was like watching a shitty Hallmark movie about a dying cancer kid on purpose. Like a weird middle-age soccer mom trying to feel something by forcing herself to get weepy. Jack wasn’t his problem or his kid, he was Castiel’s more than anyone else’s.

****

And that meant Castiel for all his bitchiness had the right to call the shots with the teenager, and he made it pretty clear what he wanted from Dean and Sam.

****

So Dean buried himself in grease and gaskets and continued rebuilding the engine like he promised Cesar and Jesse he would.

****

Or at least he tried until around eight o’clock on the dot.

****

“You’re going to head to the hospital like that?” Sam’s voice popped up behind him, making Dean jump about a foot in the air, the hand with the wrench swinging out on instinct making Sam jump back alarmed.

****

Dean dropped the tool almost immediately heart still racing, “Way to sneak up on guy, say something or… call next time, I could’a clocked you...”

****

****-** **

_ ‘Shitty hybrids and their silent engines, he hadn’t even heard Sam pull up.’ _

****-** **

Sam huffed a laugh still holding up his hands in false surrender, “well you didn’t answer your phone and you weren’t at the house, so I figured I’d find you’d be here.”

****

Dean patted down his pockets with his cleaner hand, ‘shit… he must have left his phone in his hurry to get out of the house that morning…’

****

“Yeah well you found me,” Dean muttered bending down to pick up the wrench and returning to bolting on the head assembly.

****

He felt Cesar’s old jeep shake slightly as Sam leaned against it. “So you’re going to head to the hospital in a t-shirt stained with… monkey grease?” Dean could feel his brother looking him up and down making him roll his eyes. 

****

“Yeah well… I have a job Sammy and like I said last night I have to finish this engine today…” Dean said not looking up. “Don’t you have to get back to your job at Douchebag INC.?”

****

Sam was quiet for a long moment, “Well… paperwork can be done from pretty much anywhere with a computer and secure wifi. Besides… family emergency kinda trumps finishing a job. I’m sure whoever’s Jeep this is would understand if they knew your younger brother was in the hos-…”

****

Dean’s head finally snapped up and he resisted the urge to slam down the lid of the Jeep, “Okay, well, maybe half-assing your job would fly in LA, but I have one job and one garage, I’m not part of a small army of suit monkeys who can throw money at whatever pisses them off me keeping my word actually matters.”

****

Sam blinked at him in disbelief, “First of all, I don't live in LA, second what the hell’s gotten into you today? Did a bug crawl up your ass or something?”

****

“What’s ‘gotten into me’,” Dean snorted, “yeah, like you would know…” 

****

Dean could feel the indignancy rolling off Sam in waves.

****

“You’re my brother I’d like to think you didn’t just suddenly turn into a massive douchebag without warning, turning your back on family? This isn’t like you Dean.”

****

Dean actually laughed, “because you care so much about family…”

****

Sam had the decency to look abashed.

****

“Before all this stuff with Jack, aside from our yearly little shindig in the graveyard, which by the way I haven’t forgotten you lied to me about, when was the last time we talked? Christmas? Mom’s birthday? We haven’t been close since you left for college,” Dean didn’t even have to raise his voice to make Sam wince.

****

Sam studied the Jeep’s side mirror, “Fine whatever, What does that have to do with Jack? What the hell does that have to do with anything?” 

****

Dean went back to ignoring him walking over to the sink to scrub the engine grime off his hands, he could practically feel Sam’s self-righteousness seething over his shoulder as he trailed behind him.

****

“I thought you were going to help? Whatever happened to ‘being there’ for Jack, was that all bullshit?” Sam demanded.

****

“Oh I’m here, I’m right here, they know where to find me if they need me,” Dean smiled over his shoulder at Sam, the grin only making it halfway up his face.

****

“That’s not…” Sam sighed kneading his forehead with one hand in exasperation, "so you have no intention of going with me to the hospital?" 

****

Dean shrugged, "do you know if they want us there?"

****

"Castiel said Jack was still asleep when I called this morning but I asked him to ca-…" Sam trailed off at the nonplussed look on Dean's face.

****

“What?” Sam half spat in frustration.

****

“That’s not what I mean… at all…” Dean said flatly.

****

“Then what the hell do you mean?” Sam said exasperated, “because I’m tired of playing twenty questions and you’re acting like a twelve-year-old.”

****

Dean took his time drying his hands on a paper towel and lining up his shot for a basketball toss into the trash before repeating himself.

****

“Do. you know. If they even want us there?”

****

There was a long silent moment before Dean continued.

****

“Because it seems to me like things are getting bad with the kid, and Castiel… uptight ass that he is has other things to worry about other than strangers barging into their lives when things are already going to shit.”

****

Sam took a moment to let that sink in, face changing from annoyance, to anger, to shame, before settling back on denial, “we’re not strangers Dean he’s…”

****

Dean cut him off, “he’s what? Our brother? Since The last time I checked, not counting yesterday I’ve spent a grand total of maybe forty-eight hours with the kid and you used to spend every moment you were forced to be around him bitching and moaning about how you’d rather be anywhere else!”

****

Sam seemed to sway back before landing his own defense angrily, “I was a kid, and I was pissed at Dad, not Jack.”

****

****-** **

_ ‘Could have fooled me…’ _

****-** **

“Yeah well, result is still the same, isn’t it?” Dean said. “You don’t know him. And I’m sure that probably makes you sad, makes you feel a little pit of woe and worry in your tummy because that’s just like you, but maybe, just maybe, now is not the time to force all that baggage on someone else.”

****

****-** **

_ ‘The kid is sick, it was becoming clearer and clearer now that no one knew exactly how sick, but he had to be scared, and Castiel… Castiel was showing emotions he normally kept locked securely behind about ten layers of bitch face. Emotions Dean hadn’t seen since the very first time he’d met the man, right after his sister died…’ _

****

_ ‘It made everything in Dean want to turn away… But Sam.’ _

****-** **

“What if this is the only time we get Dean?” Sam said quietly.

****

Dean’s mouth opened and closed.

****

“Now you’re just being overdramatic,” Dean snorted, shaking his head and pushing away the stubborn tightness in his own chest.

****

Sam didn’t drop it, “Fine, let’s say you’re right, lets say Jack is fine, he recovers from whatever terrible bullshit he’s going through right now and he and Castiel go back to their lives in Indiana without a hitch. Then what? He thinks we didn’t even try to be there for him? Yet again?”

****

“Maybe what he thinks about you isn’t what matters right now,” Dean said simply, “he has Castiel, what makes you think he wants or needs either one of us. Because from where I’m standing, it seems like this isn’t about Jack, this is about you needing to play the hero and needing to make up for the past because you feel bad.”

****

Sam’s eyes narrowed and flashed before he huffed a petulant laugh, “Maybe you were right about us before, because you certainly don’t know me anymore if you honestly think that’s how I feel...”

****

Dean tasted bitterness on the back of his tongue, he swallowed and crossed his arms, “You know what, do whatever you think is right, you’re a grown man Sam that’s your prerogative… You know where I’ll be, right here, minding my own damn business…”

****

Sam shook his head, “Is that what you think you’re doing? Really Dean?” 

****

Dean shrugged, “You see that’s the great thing about having already explained myself, I’ve already explained myself…” 

****

Dean turned back on the tap of the work sink and began scrubbing the grime from under his fingernails, after a few more minutes, Sam left without another word. ********  
  


-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Jack hadn’t woken back up since doctor Hannah administered the sedative in the night, Castiel figured it might be better that way, he still didn’t know what he would tell Jack when he did wake up.

****

Jack at least sounded peaceful while he slept, his breathing was easier, and there were no uneasy hisses of pain. 

****

****-** **

_ ‘One glance over would show the tube still snaking across Jack’s face and the bruise turning a darker purple as it oxidized.” _

****-** **

The doctor told Castiel Jack was stable. Whatever had been sending the teenager’s body into a nosedive the last few days at least wasn’t any closer to shutting down his organs, at least… not for now… 

****

****-** **

_ ‘It felt like they were just waiting around for the next thing to go wrong with no answers or solutions for what had already gone wrong in sight.’ _

****

_ ‘At this rate...’ _

****-** **

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed, pushing away the thought before the implications could scrub him raw..

****

The doctors were doing their best. They seemed to be drawing enough blood to supply a small red cross branch, and they kept coming it with more and more paperwork, tests they wanted to run, transfer orders, insurance questions.

****

Castiel tried to keep track of everything the doctors were saying and doing to Jack, what they were testing for what the results were. But things were quickly stretching above and beyond what he’d learned from his stint in nursing school. 

****

That didn’t mean Cas wasn’t trying everything he could. He had run through every cough, nosebleed, and bruised knee he could remember in the last sixteen years of Jack’s life, hell he’d even been through everything he’d remembered from his sister’s childhood that he thought might be remotely relevant.

****

****-** **

_ ‘These things take time…’ _

****-** **

But it felt like nothing the doctors were doing had a straightforward point or purpose, at least… not that he could see. It felt like they were still grasping at straws, rapidly running through and running out of obvious causes, ready to pass Jack off to other doctors in hopes they could do better.

****

Somehow the closer they got to noon and Jack’s transfer to Kansas University hospital the worse Cas felt. Even if the other hospital had better resources and going there was best for Jack part of him still didn’t want to accept that things had already gone far enough for that to be necessary.

****

****-** **

_ ‘He just wanted Jack to be okay…’  _

****-** **

“Mr. Kline?” a cautious voice called him from his thoughts, doctor Hannah stood on the far side of the bed. Castiel hadn’t even heard the door open.

****

“We’re getting ready to move Jack,” she said gently.

****

Castiel blinked tiredly, “I thought we were… it’s only…” he fumbled for his phone.

****

Eleven Thirty-eight blinked back at him and he sighed rubbing at his face, “right… sorry, do I… do I need to sign anything else?”

****

She smiled kindly pulling the stethoscope from around her neck, “No, I just have to check on him and give the final okay for him to be moved.

****

****-** **

_ ‘That confirmed about five things at once.’ _

****-** **

“So… we’re going through with it? There haven’t been signs of improvement?”

****

“The last blood tests we got back where the ones we took last night and they’re… unchanged,” she said carefully, listening to Jack’s heartbeat and breathing through the stethoscope her expression carefully schooled calm, “the ones from this morning won’t be back until late afternoon.

****

Castiel nodded understanding, mostly, “but you still don’t know what’s going on?”

****

She sighed looping the stethoscope back around her neck, “the university hospital has many more specialists and specialized care we can’t provide here.” She made sure to meet his eyes looking earnest before continuing “I did my residency there myself and I truly think they’ll have a better time making sense of what’s going on.”

****

****-** **

_ ‘Before things can get any worse…’ _

****-** **

Castiel just nodded again and she moved on in her examination. When she reached to wrap the blood pressure cuff around Jack’s arm he twitched, face screwing up as he pulled away slightly.

****

“Jack?” Castiel called cautiously, not sure what kind of state the boy would wake up in. It took a minute, but Jack gradually woke up, eyes scrunching up before slowly, sheepishly opening fully.

****

“How… how are you feeling Jack?” Castiel asked cautiously, putting a hand on his shoulder, “do you need anything?”

****

Jack continued to look confused clearing his throat and cautiously pushing himself up on his elbows, “I’m kind of… I’m… hungry?”


	8. Selfies, subterfuge and the koolaid man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cas needs a shower, Jack plays mind games with himself mostly, and the brothers question their choices.

**April 23, 2017**

**-**

“You wanna run that by me again?” Dean's voice was muffled over the phone, like he was talking at it on speaker from a few feet away.

The last few hours after Jack woke up had been a whirlwind.

It had taken two of those hours for Castiel to remember he promised to call Dean’s younger brother Sam and another hour yet for him to steel himself to call Dean. 

Jack’s ever-present cough was still there, (his lungs showing their displeasure at being filled with something besides air) but besides that…

He seemed... okay.

Castiel held the word shakily at the back of his throat not letting himself even think it too loudly. He wouldn’t even say it except in the form of a question.

The boy still seemed fairly exhausted by the entire ordeal but there wasn’t the same scary distant look in his eyes that felt like he was slipping somewhere far away. 

And wonders of all wonders he’d actually eaten most of the sandwich the nurse brought him at mealtime. Castiel could just see Jack picking at the last of the crust when he glanced over his shoulder.

“The doctor is planning to keep Jack at Lawrence Memorial for a while longer, I just thought you should know…”

“No no, the other bit… The part where you said, ‘Jack’s doing alright so they’re waiting to transfer him,’ what does that mean?”

Castiel bit back his defensive instinct.

_“Do you even care?”_

“It means he’s feeling a little better today, so Doctor Hannah felt safe waiting to transfer him.”

Dean made a nonplussed noise on the other end of the line, “I mean, it’s just…” he fell quiet for a moment, “last night you made it sound like he was dying or something…”

Castiel opened his mouth to protest and then closed it face heated, he’d been panicked but he hadn’t been that extreme, “Well I’m sorry for disrupting your sleep Dean,” Castiel said a little more terse than he intended.

“Seriously?” Dean sounded annoyed.

_Perhaps that was a little too rude._

Castiel quickly continued before Dean could really get pissed. “Look… I really don’t know anything yet other than Jack hasn’t gotten any worse, and he’s eating today.” 

“...And that’s good right?” Dean said slowly.

_‘Possibly...’_

_‘Probably…”_

“They’ll know more when more tests get back this afternoon…” Castiel said cagily.

Dean grunted, “Makes sense, did you need something else? I mean… what did you call to see…”

“I just thought you should know,” Castiel said quickly.

Dean gave a soft huff of a laugh, “yeah no that’s uh… that’s good…” he was quiet for a moment voice sounding a little unsure when he spoke again, “Just… let me know if the kid’s okay… I guess?”

Castiel hesitated trying to sort through his own haze of emotions. The wall of defensiveness and frustration that he had built up starting to crack. Some small unfair part of him a little disappointed not to have a righteous external threat to be irritated with and hide his anxiety (which had been mounting for days) behind. 

He couldn’t read Dean, the man seemed to yoyo between aloof stranger, antagonistic asshole and concerned family member at least three times in any given conversation and Castiel was too tired to sort through his own thoughts much less Dean’s.

“Cas?” Jack’s voice was a welcome distraction away from the increasingly awkward conversation.

“I have to go now Dean…” Castiel said quickly.

“What?”

“I will let you know how things go, sorry for bothering you…” he quickly hung up.

Jack tilted his head watching sheepishly as his uncle swiftly tucked away his phone in his trench coat pocket.

“Y-you didn’t have to hang up…” Jack coughed into the back of his hand.

“We were done talking,” Castiel said simply quickly waving the conversation away and turning his attention back to Jack, “What do you need?”

Jack blinked at him for a moment looking unconvinced before asking slowly, “I just… Is there anymore water?”

_'water, yes, he could get water…_

Castiel fumbled to pick up the small hospital pitcher from the dresser beside Jack's bed and found it empty, "I'll just… find an orderly…" 

Castiel smiled shakily at Jack and got a small concerned smile back.

"Was Dean being an as-” Jack trailed off the second _“s”_ catching himself before swearing in front of his uncle, “-butt again? Do you _want to tell me about it_?"

Castiel's mouth twitched a little into a more honest smile, it was the same phrase he'd repeated a hundred times, whenever Jack got upset.

_'you should be asking him that…_ '

"I'm alright…" Castiel patted Jack’s hand a little awkwardly. "You just focus on feeling better…"

' _whatever that meant…_ '

Castiel tapped the top of the water pitcher and headed for the door before the anxiety of the thought could melt the smile off his face.

"I am Cas…" Jack piped up, giving the most reassuring smile he could with his eyebrows still furrowed in concern.

"I am feeling much better than yesterday…"

The doctors were weaning Jack off the pain and nausea drugs as his symptoms seemed to mysteriously fade. But for every piece of good news Cas' uneasiness didn't waver. Perhaps it was his just his own paranoia but…

' _they still didn't know what_ **_had_ ** _happened…_ '

Castiel gave the best smile he could muster on short notice, “I know Jack… and I’m glad I just… want you to take things slow.”

Every time he looked at Jack’s face his eyes were drawn to the purple bruise decorating it from cheek to temple.

_‘He saw Jack convulsing on the floor…’_

Castiel blinked away the image, muttered, “I...I’ll be right back...water…” and ducked quickly out of the room.

He breathed a shaky sigh still so in his head he almost ran into the wall that was Sam Winchester.

Castiel jumped back glad the water picture was empty or else he would have dumped half of it over himself and the younger Winchester.

“Sorry,” Sam gave an awkward smile, taking in Cas’s shaken demeanor, “is… everything okay?” Sam paused and said carefully, “Is Jack okay?” 

Castiel took a moment to answer running a hand over his face, “No… he’s… Jack’s fine… I’m fine… we’re all…” Cas sighed, “fine…”

“Do you… need a moment? To take a break… grab some food?” Sam said hesitantly like he was trying to calm a small feral animal.

‘ _Food… it sounded good… Castiel had been living off vending machine coffee and little packets of peanut butter crackers for the last twenty-four hours…_ ”

“I just… I promised to bring Jack some more water so…” 

Sam nodded looking pensive.

Castiel knew by now the man meant well but his track record for being present in times of trouble wasn’t exactly stellar, and the idea of continuing to rely on Sam, of owing him and letting him become a familiar presence in their life felt like taking advantage of temporary guilt.

_‘And he didn’t want Jack to trust this man again only to be let down...again…’_

“I could bring him the water and sit with him for a bit if you want?” Sam said carefully.

Castiel held the pitcher a little closer to his chest incredulous, but was hesitant to directly reject the offer.

“Look um... “ Sam dug around in his jeans pocket for his wallet and for one wild affronted moment Castiel thought he was planning on offering him money.

“What are you…?”

Sam held up his hands placatingly and revealed what he’d actually been searching for, a hotel keycard.

“Look… I heard you had to check out of your old hotel room yesterday and you’ve been here with Jack for the last two days… If you wanted to…I don’t know shower, change clothes…” Sam said carefully.

Castiel fell silent, the mild burn of shame rising in his face, he knew he probably looked like a mess with his rumpled clothes and slightly wild hair.

_‘He’d promised himself a long time ago that he wasn’t ever going to ask the Winchester’s for help, that he was never going to seek out the company of people who for years couldn’t be bothered to so much as call._ ’

“Samuel… I can’t possibly…”

Sam cut in, “Really it wouldn’t… it’s not any problem I brought my own stuff so the bathroom is still stocked with soap and those little shampoos and you said… you said Jack’s doing okay right now, maybe it’s a good time to…” Sam sighed fidgeting with the card in his hands and finally just holding it out looking just as unsure as Castiel. 

Castiel didn’t want to leave Jack behind, he felt like if he looked away for a second the other shoe would drop and he would regret it. He also knew how ridiculous that was, knew he couldn’t just live out of Jack’s hospital room until some yet unknown release date.

_‘His scalp was starting to itch._ ’ 

And the look on Sam’s face… Owing the man, was the last thing he wanted, but he knew that look…

Sam looked desperate. Desperate to do something, to help in some way. Castiel didn’t know how much of that was out of real concern for Jack and how much of it was guilt.

_‘Somehow he doubted even Sam himself could answer that question.’_

But he knew how it felt to not be able to do anything, part of him argued he’d be doing Sam the favor by giving him something helpful to do.

Jack said he felt okay, tried to reassure _his uncle_ that things would be okay. Part of Cas was afraid that all his fear and anxious mollycoddling was what was hurting Jack the most in this moment... 

_‘Even without the probable pneumonia, Jack didn’t have a moment to breathe without worrying about or feeding off of his uncle’s emotions.’_

Castiel let out a soft resigned sigh.

“Thank you… Sam.”

_‘Please don’t hurt Jack again…’_

  
  


**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

  
  


Cas stopped back by Jack’s room to drop off the promised water and let him know about a hundred times that he’d try to be back within the hour. He made Sam promise to call if anything went wrong.

And he did mean _anything_ , by the end of his speech Jack felt like if he looked at Sam the wrong way Castiel would come running.

But eventually Castiel did leave, and Jack and Sam were left to sit awkwardly in the hospital room Jack slowly sipping at his water in a foam cup and eyeing Sam sheepishly.

Jack felt his face burn remembering practically breaking into tears when Castiel left the day before.

He felt… foolish.

When Jack woke up this… early afternoon, he'd still been bone-tired and congested in his chest like he had a bad cold. But unlike the day before his head was clear and didn't hurt and the horrible pain that had taken over his core was back to being dull and far away. 

And he'd been hungry. He hadn't had an appetite for days...

Even the doctor had looked a little confused when he'd asked sheepishly if it was too late for breakfast.

He'd been relieved at first but now? Now he was just… embarrassed.

Had he overreacted the day before? Had all his crying and fear misled the doctors and Cas?

No that couldn't be it, he remembered the stabbing pain in his stomach remembered doctor Hannah waking him up in the middle of the night for more tests the terrifying grimness with which she delivered her news. 

_‘The fear in his uncle's eyes.’_

But everything he felt the day before was blurred and hazy, like a bad nightmare. Like a hit and run where the only marks left behind were the bruises on his face and the worry lines on his uncle's. 

_'And the bone… no soul-deep tiredness…'_

Jack didn’t want to think about it.

He wanted to distance himself as far as possible from the tears and terrifying feeling of the night before…

_"You don't know what's wrong with me?"_

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat.

_‘Maybe it’s over now…’_

He was nearly grown, he wasn't going to fall apart in front of Sam again. If he was going to be fine there was no reason for him to be childish, internally begging for his uncle and outwardly crying, not again.

He didn’t want Sam to think about him that way, like a little kid he felt sorry for. 

_‘In the end no one really wanted kids around.’_

He had practically clung to Sam the day before when the doctor came for the LP. 

It was so embarrassing just thinking about it made Jack want to cry again so he blinked hard and tried to find a course of action that wasn’t making a fool of himself.

Sitting in a hospital got boring very quickly when you weren’t in a drug and pain haze.

Jack cleared his throat sitting up as straight as he could in bed, “H-hey Sam?”

“Hmm?” Sam looked up pensive from his ever-present work laptop, "Do you need something? More water?"

Jack felt his determination to act as adult as possible waver as soon as the older man's attention was directed at him. He mouthed wordlessly for a moment before gathering the nerve to continue.

"No… thank you," he said sheepishly, "it's uh… I was just wondering if I could have my phone back?"

Sam blinked like a deer in the headlights, "Your...phone?"

Jack quickly cut in, "Yeah, I think it's still in one of Cas's jacket's pockets?"

' _Cas had left the coat hanging over the back of his chair to stand vigil while he was gone._ '

Sam glanced between the coat and Jack unsure.

"Aren't you grounded?"

Jack opened his mouth to speak paused to cough then cleared his throat and did his best to sound authoritative.

"I was, but only until Monday… this Monday… which it now is, so…"

Jack conveniently left out the fact he knew he'd probably be grounded for the next month for admitting to the whole… weed thing.

Sam still looked unconvinced.

"Please," Jack couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice, "I just… I’ve been here all weekend, and… and…"

_'I hate it here, I want to go home…'_

"... I haven't been at school, exams are coming up I… I need to talk to someone about notes and… and homework and stuff?"

Sam began to teeter.

_'I just want to talk to someone, anyone not here, to know things are okay out there… to know I'll be okay…'_

"Please S-sam," Jack's voice broke around a fit of coughing that was enough to make his eyes water.

"None of my friends now I'm here,” Jack choked breathily regaining his air, "I… they’re probably worried…"

_'if they even care…'_

"I just… want them to know I'm okay…" he finished lamely looking down and picking at the tape of his IV line.

He heard Sam sigh and the slight squeak of one of his chair being pulled across the floor.

"Alright… alright… but if you're ur uncle gets mad at me I'm telling him you tricked me…” 

Jack looked up to see Sam had pulled the chair with the jacket within reach and was patting down the pockets for his phone.

He felt a wave of relief when he saw the familiar black and a yellow of his Star Wars phone case.

"Th-thank you…" Jack said quickly bashful taking the phone from Sam, praying it was still charged when he pressed the power button.

Thankfully it was still at seventy-five percent and Jack felt a second wave of relief seeing there were seven missed texts.

_'way to be needy Jack…'_

The first one was from Maggie, a simple…

**M:** **'Hey Jack you weren't at school today, is everything okay?'**

The rest… were from Clarke.

**C:** **'Dude…'**

**C:** **'Hey… d U d E'**

**C:** **'where you @ Maggie is freaking out thinking you got suspended 'cause you weren't in first period.'**

**C:** **'Wait did you get suspended for that BS in Mr. Shirley's class?'**

**C:** **'Dude there was a sub in your dad-uncle's class during third? The hell is going on???'**

**C:** **'did you get expelled? cause I'll fight mr. Shit-ly if you did…'**

Jack rolled his eyes but his mouth twitched in a warm smile.

Clark was usually aloof and more interested in goofing off than actually accomplishing… literally anything. But he was always down to clown when someone actually needed something. Especially when it involved “sticking it to the man…”

_“Your mom’s the Sheriff doesn’t that make her ‘the man’?” Jack pointed out one day._

_“Shut up it’s not that deep…”_

Jack bit his lip, not sure where to even start explaining the mess of the last few days.

**_J:_ ** **_‘Hey.’_ ** Jack texted sheepishly.

For a long moment, there was no response, then there were about five pings in rapid succession.

**C:** **'Wtf!'**

 **C:** **'Dude we thought you'd died or something?'**

 **C:** **'Is your uncle still bogarting your phone or something?'**

 **C:** **'did you really get expelled?"**

 **C:** **'wherr are you?'**

Jack paused again.

**J:** **'Kansas? What’s bogarting?'**

Clark seemed even more confused.

**C:** **'Kansas?'**

 **C:** **'Oh right! The thing with your weird cousins or something right? You guys are still there? Did your car uncle’s car break down or something?'**

Jack hesitated. There was the question.

**J:** **'Half brothers not cousins and no…’**

 **J:** **‘I'm in the hospital.'**

There was a good five minutes where the 'Clark is typing' dots danced across the bottom of the screen.

**C:** **'Wtf not funny man…'**

Jack sighed.

**J:** **I'm being serious.'**

More furious typing ensued...

**C:** **'What the hell? Did you guys get in a wreck or something?’**

**J:** **‘I just said the car’s fine I…’**

Jack started typing trying to explain but his injured arm was beginning to ache. He looked around nervously and seeing Sam was sufficiently distracted by his laptop he lifted his phone up and (between deep purple bruise, dark circles and decorative nasal cannula) took probably one of the second or third worst selfies he'd ever taken.

**C:** **'Dude wtf, your face!'**

Jack gingerly flexed the fingers on his injured side.

**J:** **'I know…'**

**C:** **'You look like you tried to kool-aid man through a brick wall.'**

Jack was mildly offended, he didn't think he looked as bad as all that...

**J:** **'I know…'** he typed a little begrudgingly.

**C:** **'The hell? Did you get in a fight or something? Wait wait did one of your brothers do that?'**

Jack quickly refuted that

**C:** **'No! I just… lost a fight with a sink…'**

Clark replied with about a dozen question marks.

**C:** **'????? Tf does that mean? What's with the twenty questions man, your freaking me out. Did something happen? Cause I know you’re like terminally clumsy sometimes but that’s a lot.'**

Jack fiddled with his pulse-ox for a moment, considering, he didn't need any more pity, he wished people would realize it just freaked him out when they treated him like a dead man walking. 

Then again that really wasn't Clark...

**J:** **'I passed out on Saturday night, and apparently had a seizure, and I was pretty sick, so… Now I'm stuck here.'**

Clark replied almost immediately

**C:** **'Did you piss yourself?'**

There was the Clark Jack knew.

**J:** **'???'**

Clark sent a shrugging emoji.

**C:** **‘What? My mom watches a lot of Grey’s Anatomy. I heard it can happen.’**

Jack rolled his eyes,

**J:** **'I don't remember and I'm definitely not gonna ask.'**

Jack blushed a little.

**C:** **'I got it sorry for asking'**

 **C:** **'what was wrong though? You okay?'**

Jack felt his chest tighten and coughed, trying to clear the anxiousness built up there.

**C:** **'Dude? You still, there? You can’t suddenly stop talking after dropping that bombshell you're freaking my out man…'**

Jack shook himself.

**J:** **'They're still doing tests, I've been poked like 16 times, they even stuck a needle in my back because they wanted to make sure I don't have meningitis… Which I don’t btw.'**

Clark showed the utmost sympathy.

**C:** **'RIP Jack.'**

 **C:** **'You are okay though right?'**

_'I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.'_

**J:** **'I'm feeling a lot better today at least...'**

It was the truth, but every fiber of his body was calling him a liar, reminding him he knew nothing.

**C:** **'Any idea when they'll let you out?'**

_'Not a clue…'_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry it's taken so long for me to get back it's been a crazy month and I've been having a rough time getting back into my old writing habit.
> 
> Also this is weird in-between chapter,


	9. Wookies, warnings, and homophobic grandpas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's sneak stat is a 2, Sam has a weird story about a wookie encounter, and everybody needs a pep talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof sorry I've been gone so long, the last few months have been insane and it's taken a long time for me to get back into my writing routine.

-

Jack spent almost the whole two hours or so Castiel was gone on his phone and part of Sam was elated.

He'd drafted the same email about corporate responsibility (for the proliferation of inaccurate information on rechargeable batteries) six times now. It was incredibly dull technical writing and he hadn’t been able to focus at all.

Every line of legal jargon he managed to type was interspersed with his mind screaming.

_“Say something!”_

Sam had come back to the hospital with a purpose, to be helpful to hold out the olive branch to Castiel and BE there for Jack.

-

_But ‘there’ was all he was…_

_-_

He had no idea what to say to Jack. The day before had been easy enough, everything had been one long train wreck fed by the intrinsic emotions that came with serious illness. But now that things had calmed down and everyone especially Jack was not on the verge of emotional collapse? He had no idea what Jack needed from him.

And outside of what Jack explicitly needed or wanted it wasn’t like Sam had a deep well of topics to draw upon for small talk..

-

_‘What the hell did Sam have in common with a kid literally half his age?’_

_“What do you say to your estranged baby brother when at his age one of your main goals was keeping the hell away from him?”_

_-_

It didn’t help that Jack himself seemed to suddenly become incredibly shy, only occasionally peeking at Sam sheepishly when he thought the man wasn’t looking...

“So you like… Star Wars?” Sam finally blurted after twenty long minutes of silence.

Jack blinked at Sam in confusion at the out of the blue question before glancing at the back of his themed phone case and flushing slightly.

“I… Yes?” Jack looked a little unsure.

Sam grabbed onto the subject, “Who's your favorite character?”

Jack’s phone buzzed in his hand and the kid glanced between Sam and the screen nervously before setting it gingerly aside.

“I think… I think Finn is pretty cool?”

Sam suddenly realized his mistake, he knew absolutely nothing about the new movie, he’d been too busy to get around to watching it.

“Oh that’s… cool… I used to have a Chewbacca plush when I was a little kid,” Sam tried instead.

There was a long moment with no noise but the passive whirring of one of the machines and a soft cough from Jack.

“Oh?” the teenager said politely.

“Yeah it was pretty cool, original too, apparently those things are worth a few hundred dollars now…”

-

_‘What are you babbling about now Sam?’_

_-_

Jack smiled and that made it seem worth it though.

“So do you collect stuff like that or something?” he asked curiously.

“Well no, it was kind of… destroyed?” Sam huffed a little sheepish.

“Destroyed?”

“Yeah… Like I said, I got it when I was a little kid, I chewed on the fabric weapons belt until it tore off and one day I left it outside and it rained so it got all mildew-y," Sam quickly explained fumbling for purchase with the Jack’s interest.

Jack pulled a face, "that's too bad…"

“The final straw though was when Dean called it a moldy sloth and I hit him with it, he tried to take it away from me and it tore raining the carpet with mildew-y stuffing…” Sam chuckled to himself.

“That’s pretty destroyed,” Jack looked mildly grossed out.

Sam missed his cue to let it go.

“Thing was though even after all that I still didn’t want to throw the thing out, I was too attached, So at six I thought it was a great idea to put this damp mildewed furry thing in a pillowcase, tie the pillowcase shut and hide it in my bed’s box spring…”

Jack’s only response was to stifle another cough in his elbow.

“We didn’t find it again until my bed started smelling like mildew, somehow it spread into the wood of the box spring and the bottom of my mattress, and the wookie… well it was some other kind of furry when my dad finally pulled it out.”

Things were dead quiet and when Sam glanced back up at Jack, he looked uncomfortable, “O-oh?” Jack said diplomatically.

-

_‘You… really overshare Sam, for fu-…’_

_-_

“Yeah… it was… nasty, sorry, that was a long time ago.” 

Jack’s eyebrows drew down a little and he looked rejected for a moment. Sam wondered if it was something that he’d said.

There was another few minutes of awkward silence before Jack’s phone buzzed again and he glanced nervously between it and Sam.

“Just… go ahead I’ll... “ Sam awkwardly tapped the side of his laptop and just like that they both went back to their designated devices as if nothing had been said.

Sam didn’t know how to talk to Jack, every happy childhood memory he had was from before Jack was born and didn’t include him, and even outside of that, he didn’t really know Jack’s personality, what made him smile, what bothered him… what he loved.

Jack seemed to be cautiously trying to connect too and somehow that made things worse, like they were both going for a high five and Sam kept awkwardly missing.

-

_‘Trying to meet in a middle that might not even exist…’_

_-_

Sam quickly went back to his emails and stayed with his head buried there until Castiel got back a while later.

\----------------------------------

**  
  
**

“I’m so, so sorry I fell asleep in the parking lot, Where’s Jack?” Castiel asked anxiously before the door even swung closed behind him..

He looked a lot better, his hair still damp but neatly combed and finally dressed down a little bit in a fresh shirt and no jacket.

“He’s fine,” Sam quickly placated, “the nurse just… took him for an X-ray of his arm. I think they wanted to put on a cast or something.”

The man relaxed a little and sighed going back to his spot beside the bed, “right… yes they… mentioned they might do that today if the swelling was down… I…” He brushed back his hair wearily, “was everything alright while I was gone?”

Sam shrugged, “it was just like I said, nothing bad happened because you stepped away for a few minutes…”

Castiel shot him a look and for a moment Sam worried if he’d crossed a line but the man quickly relaxed again.

“I know you probably think I’m being… paranoid, and I don’t know, maybe I am, or maybe you just can’t understand this, but Jack…” Castiel’s eyes were far away, “I don’t want to take any chances with him...”

Sam felt the same mild discomfort he had for days now, seeing Castiel vulnerable just… felt wrong. The time away had done him good but for every bit less manic he looked now he looked ten times more exhausted.

“You’re right I really don’t get it…” Sam huffed. “I mean the way I see it he’s already in the safest place he could be.”

Castiel snorted sounding unconvinced.

“I but then again I’ve never been a parent so, guess I wouldn’t…” Sam paused, he was coming off all wrong, "I don’t know… what this is like for you."

Castiel eyed him a little amused, "I didn't know you even thought of me that way… I… I don't want you to think I'm some nut but who doesn't trust modern medicine…"

"I don't, I'm sure your not…" Sam said quickly.

"It's just…" Castiel rubbed at his face. "The doctors were doing the best they could when my sister died, sometimes it feels like “the best” still doesn’t mean much ..."

Sam paused trying to figure out whether his next words would be welcome or get him another dirty look.

"I mean, I don't really think things are that bad…"

-

_'Dirty look, it definitely got him a dirty look.'_

_-_

Sam quickly switched gears, "what I mean is, Jack seems better today so maybe the doctors are on the right track. Or better yet this thing, whatever it is, is just sorting itself out…"

"You didn't hear what the doctor said last night, you don't…" Castiel sighed and rubbed at his forehead.

"Don't you have a job to get back to… in California?" Castiel muttered wearily.

For a moment, Sam felt affronted and maybe a little hurt, but there was no real malice in Castiel's words and the message became clear.

-

_'Change the subject…'_

_-_

"I asked for some time off…" Sam shrugged, "most of our case prep work is done over the internet nowadays anyway…"

Some of the senior partners hadn't been too happy about it if Mr. Roman's rather passive aggressive "I hope your family matter clears up soon," was anything to go by. 

But none of the other junior partners seemed to mind at all…

-

_'Probably glad to have a chance to get ahead and prove themselves…'_

_'Part of Sam wished he still cared, but lately...'_

_-_

Castiel just nodded noncommittally.

"What about you… the high school?” Sam tried, “you’re a teacher right?, how’s that going without you?”

“There’s a substitute…” Cas said simply.

“Oh…” Sam screamed internally, he thought the man wanted a distraction but now it just felt like trying to keep up a conversation with a brick wall. 

“I… already had the last few weeks of lessons planned out and review worksheets written up, so while I can’t be there right now, my classes should be… prepared.” Castiel muttered suddenly, seeming lost in thought, “That’s... one thing I’ve always prided myself on… being prepared…”

Sam caught the implication but decided not to feed into it.

“it’ll be okay…” Sam said simply.

Castiel blinked at him in confusion, “I know _they_ will, Mr. Wyatt is an excellent substitute teacher.”

-

_‘Okay maybe Sam was lost…’_

_-_

He snorted further confusing Castiel.

“What?”

“Nothing…” Sam shook his head, “Jack… he… he told me he misses school.

Castiel blinked in surprise, he opened his mouth to ask something but before he could get the words out there was a knock at the door.

"Delivery," a voice called.

Jack appeared in the doorway being wheeled in by the nurse Meg with a new violently blue cast on his arm and a sheepish look on his face.

"Jack," Castiel smiled relieved earning him a nervous smile back from Jack.

He seemed much more stable on his feet than the day before when he climbed gingerly out of the wheelchair as the nurse re-hung the IV bags.

"They're taking him off the oxygen for now," the nurse said, her tone seemed considerably nicer now that Jack was awake. 

-

_'She probably had infinitely more patience for sick kids, than antagonistic asshole family members who just act like children…'_

_-_

"It's getting easier to breathe now," Jack said brightly, even though his pronouncement was almost immediately broken up by wheezy coughing.

"That's um… that's great Jack," Castiel said gently eyes still distracted back on the nurse.

-

_'With a pang of amusement Sam caught Jack carefully peeking at his phone beneath his blanket when he thought his uncle wasn't watching.'_

_-_

"So um… was everything alright?" Castiel asked the nurse, trying to keep his voice chipper and upbeat.

She blinked at him sardonically, "Nope, his wrist is definitely fractured."

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed, "That's not what I…"

She interrupted, "I know, but that's all I really have to tell you, everything else is above my pay grade, you'll have to wait on the doctor for any more papa bear."

Castiel gave a frustrated huff glancing back at Jack who quickly dropped the covers back down over his phone and glanced around sheepishly.

-

_'If Castiel noticed he didn't say anything.'_

_-_

"You wanna know my professional opinion on this?" the nurse quickly re-drew both men's attention.

"I don't know but I feel like you're going to give it to me either way…" Castiel sighed.

"I can't guess at what's going on with your kid, or whether he'll keep getting better or worse, I could get the hospital sued and lose my job and all that," Meg shrugged, glancing back over at Jack who was sitting up in bed and playing with his phone "sneakily" under the covers again.

"But…" her voice softened, "he seems to be having a good day… so I’d say try to take today for what it is… and enjoy it."

Sam wished her saying that did anything to calm the ripples of anxiousness in his stomach, a feeling that must be like waves breaking on the beach in Castiel...

**  
  
**

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

**  
  
**

Dean wished he could say he changed his mind as soon as Sam walked out of the shop, but it took another day and a half…

He'd finished rebuilding the Cuevas's Jeep's engine block, changed a fuel filter on some Uni Kid's car and an engine coil on another’s before he even looked back at his phone again.

No missed calls, no texts. Either everything was fine or Sam also didn't want to talk to him.

-

_'What else was new.'_

_-_

Either way Dean refused to be the first one to call back. He'd meant what he said and if Sam wanted to act all pissy about it that was his business.

But by the next morning his familiar routine tasted like a Kahlua hangover in the back of his throat.

He was already in a bad mood at eight am when Jesse came to pick up his Jeep from the shop.

"I thought you were going to pick up this hunk of junk yesterday…" Dean scowled hands tucked in his pockets a little defensively.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed…" Jesse sounded bemused waving briefly over his shoulder at his husband waiting with the truck running.

"It would have been nice not to be in a time crunch, yeah…" Dean snorted, pulling out a beer from the mini fridge in the garage's work area.

"Sorry man," Jesse shrugged guiltily, "I got a call I couldn't miss. I thought you said you weren't busy anyway. Something come up?"

"Brother's in town," Dean could feel the man eyeing him concerned as he sipped his morning beer.

"You want one?" Dean offered half sarcastically.

"It's eight Winchester," Jesse said flatly.

Dean shrugged.

Jesse sighed pulling out his wallet and fishing out an envelope of cash to pay for the repair, "seriously man what's eating you, 'cause I've met Sam and he doesn't normally get under your skin like this."

Dean said nothing just took the money and headed towards the office..

Jesse shook his head looking half amused half irritated following him, "look, me and Cesar are meeting with a few friends at Gabe's to celebrate tonight, maybe come by if you're feeling less pissy past nine…"

Dean snorted handing over the cash to the teenager behind the desk, "what are you a fourteen-year old girl? I'm not 'pissy'."

"You’re one of the pissiest person I've ever met Dean Winchester," Jesse said with a good natured smile.

“He’s right, you’re like, super pissy…” Claire remarked flatly counting the cash out into the drawer and not meeting her boss's glare.

Dean snorted tossing Jesse the Jeep keys, "just try the damn engine already…" 

Jesse laughed and Dean followed him out to the car, wanting to remain annoyed but significantly distracted.

"What are you celebrating anyway?" Dean finally asked unable to suppress his admittedly childish curiosity.

"Retirement," Jesse said simply.

Dean blinked in mild confusion, "dude you're like 36…"

Jesse grinned infuriatingly and climbed into the Jeep cab, "I know right?"

He let the curiosity eat away at Dean as he revved the engine.

It purred like it was fresh off the line and Dean couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the pleased look on the other man's face.

"Beautiful, man," Jesse said patting the side of the door.

Before Dean could ask Jesse if he’d won the lottery or something he pointed to Dean and said simply.

"Nine-Thirty, Gabe's."

Dean shook his head, "fine, fine."

The man smiled, gave a brief thumbs up to his husband in the other vehicle and they both drove off leaving Dean to sit with his extremely mild curiosity and confusion.

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to get back to work.

“Pissy my ass…”

He hated feeling like this.

He had his mother who was doing better then she had been in years teaching mythology at the University and his standoffish little brother who came for Christmas. That was his family.

A house that was payed off in full and the shop he inherited from John that he kept running like a well oiled machine. That was his life.

Dean had made mistakes in the past, lost people in the past 

-

Who hadn't?

-

He'd made his peace with that and moved on.

He'd decided long ago that Jack and Castiel had their own sad chapter in the Winchester's life but it was long over. Their lives were two completely separate stories now…

-

' _Dean was sure the kid couldn't want the fact he was born because some guy made a mistake, got drunk, and cheated on his wife following him around his whole life… Or at least… he'd get that was a bad thing when he was older.'_

_-_

As far as Dean was concerned they were better off forgetting that shitty night ever happened, and he _knew_ forgetting was the right thing to do but people constantly questioning his every decision wasn't helping.

Sam’s self-righteous huffing and puffing.

Jesse’s... amusement.

Castiel’s confusion over the phone.

-

_'Don't act like you care all of a sudden…'_

_Things were so much simpler when there was just vague dislike and mistrust between the two of them…_

-

Why was he even worried about this? Castiel said the kid was doing better, that should be the end of it. 

If Dean saw someone hit by a car he'd try to help, call 911, stay by their side and keep them calm until the ambulance came. 

-

_'He was a decent man, despite what Sam might think.'_

_-_

What Dean wouldn't do was follow them around the accident victim for the next six months and bludgeon and prod their family for information and acknowledgement.

-

_Jack and Castiel weren't family._

_Not really._

-

Jack was blood sure, but he was blood like a great aunt who lived six states away who nobody talked to for some stupid reason no one remembered, why bring up old shit?

There was too much baggage and bitterness.

Better to leave the great dam of 2000's infidelity up between Kansas and Indiana as a monument to the shitty past rather than go picking at it and have all the crap pour out.

-

_‘Dean felt dangerously close to drowning in that bitterness already.’_

_-_

If Sam wanted to swing an ax at that himself (like the lumberjack in business casual he looked like) Sam could deal with the resulting flood himself.

He repeated the last thought to himself until he finished up for the day, leaving Claire to lock up the building.

He was of half a mind to ignore Jesse's offer and just head home, but…

-

_He didn't think the empty house would do anything to calm his mind and drinking alone was just sad._

_-_

"Screw it," He turned at the first red light and headed towards Gabe's.

He set his phone to silent and decided to act as if that corner of his life didn't exist for the evening.

He was spotted as soon as he entered the Gabe’s, Cesar grinning at him and gesturing him over to the little group at the bar.

"Hey Dean, sit, first round's on us," Jesse called from around his husband.

It was a little bit to Cheers-y for comfort but Dean didn't fight it sighing and sidling up to the bar.

"Whiskey, neat…" Dean ordered gruffly.

Gabe poured the whiskey one eyebrow slightly raised, "well you're awful chipper today Deano."

"Yeah well I don't even know what we're supposed to be celebrating yet so…" Dean toasted in Jesse's general direction smile not reaching his eyes "What's the party for?"

"New beginnings," Jesse smiled lifting up his own glass. "Finally bought the property of our dreams."

Dean blinked, "yeah? How'd you swing that?"

"Finally sold the old shop…" Cesar said smiling at Jesse proudly.

Dean blinked, feeling a slightly bitter pang of nostalgia. He could remember long summers going out with friends and dates to rent kayaks and buy ice cream from Jesse's family's old rental shack by Clinton lake.

"Business finally get that bad?" Dean felt how rude the words were in his mouth and cringed internally, but Jesse just snorted and smiled.

"Just the opposite actually, it's shaping up to be one of the biggest tourist seasons yet…"

“So… going out on a high then?” Dean took another swig of his whiskey. 

“Something like that,” Jesse shrugged.

“The Gallager kid turned 25 and he's been working there since he was 16, we figured he was probably ready to take over,” Cesar explained.

“Wait time out," Gabe cut into the conversation brandishing his bar rag. "Dude hasn't your family been running that place since most of the people in the old folks home were in diapers the first time?"

“That’s the thing though, it’s always been my family’s thing,” Jesse said diplomatically, “I only actually took over because my brother was gone, my grandpa in fact had some strong opinions on ‘people like me’.” Jesse snorted, “honestly I think I only stayed so long out of spite, that and I promised mom... I always meant to let the place go when I found someone to take care of it. It was never what I dreamed about doing...”

“Sam was the same way, never wanted to work at the shop…" Dean huffed a laugh, "He never could get along with dad… so it would have been fucking weird if he stayed."

_-_

_John had been angry; not so much at Sam wanting to go his own way but just… how vehemently against staying Sam had been. "You just can't wait to leave your family behind can you?"_

_"Don't you dare, you don't get to say that to me, not you!" Sam spat back._

_-_

"Why wallow in the shitty past when you can just move on…" Dean muttered coming back to himself in the bar.

Jesse turned his glass in his hands looking pensive, "Sometimes it felt like that… but no that’s not really it."

Dean's eyebrows rose.

Jesse quickly explained, "I mean yeah there was a lot of shit there, but I grew up around that old shack, me and my brother worked there pretty much every summer after we were old enough to see over the counter…"

Dean whiskey tasted ashy in his mouth, he remembered Jesse's big brother, he’d always been the cool older teen who'd give you an extra half scoop of ice cream when "the boss" wasn't looking.

-

_He'd drowned on a fishing trip with his younger brother when Dean was in junior high…_

-

Jesse shrugged continuing where he left off, "why would I let one shithead ruin all of that?"

Dean hummed vaguely still feeling a little lost, "but you're still giving it up now?"

Jesse nodded glancing toward Cesar, "Don't get me wrong, if my brother was still alive… if I still had family interested in running the place maybe I wouldn't've… For a long time I thought that was going to be my whole life."

Cesar gently squeezed his husband's hand and Dean felt a pang of emotion he pushed away before he could identify it.

Jesse continued, "But I have a family now and I… I just… can't live in the past anymore."

Dean felt more lost than ever, "Makes sense I guess, why literally live in all the painful bullshit when you have something better..."

Cesar blinked at Dean, "seriously dude why so dark?"

Dean bit back the need to find a smarmy way to tell his friends it was none of their damn business, "Just shitty family stuff…"

"Your brother?" Jesse asked.

Dean snorted, "you could say that…" he knocked back the rest of his glass. "I just don't get that kid anymore…"

"He do something stupid?" Jesse asked.

"He's an adult, he can do what he wants," Dean snorted and tried to get Gabe's attention for a second whiskey, "It's not like we really even talk much anymore, who am I to keep him from shoving his foot up his own ass…" 

"Yeah, that's real convincing…" Jesse shook his head bemused.

Dean hurumphed and muttered a thanks to Gabe who finally came over.

"Are you two still on the same crap from a few days ago?" Gabe asked pouring the second glass.

Jesse and Cesar's ears perked up and even Gabe's weird brother Gadreel was watching him from across the room. Dean wondered darkly if there was any privacy left in this town.

"Yeah my own, personal, crap," Dean said pointedly.

Gabe held up his hands in mock surrender, "okay, okay, fine, don't talk about it, it's just seems like whatever "it" is seems to be eating you an awful lot…"

"Yeah well Sam has that effect, he does dumb shit and you worry about him, over and over until it's just too much and…" Dean wrapped his knuckles on the table, "maybe you have it right and it's time to cut him loose, move on…"

Jesse pulled a face, "that's not what I meant at all…"

"Yeah well then what do you mean, because I'm getting tired of guessing," Dean barked.

Jesse had the courtesy not to smirk at him.

"My point is… I don't really know Sammy haven't seen him since he was sixteen but... make sure shutting him out is what you really want, and not just some petty shit."

It dug like a knife in Dean's gut, "You're right you don't know shit…" Dean muttered taking a swig from his glass..

Jesse smiled more than a little forlornly, "all I do know is, having lost him, if I had a second chance with my brother…” he trailed off, “Make absolutely sure you’re ready to give up your chances at this future, when you're planning on leaving behind your past…"

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment on what you thought/like if you have the time and inclination comment help feed my inspiration and joy as a writer
> 
> Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.


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